Oops. So a couple weeks ago, I told my mom that the permanent retainer on the back of my bottom teeth felt like it was loose or broken. As the title relates, it was in fact not my retainer. It's my tooth. It split in half. It looks like the retainer just pulled the back of the tooth loose. That's broken tooth number two. I am one classy lady. Now, my work offers dental insurance that you pay like $30 for each month. But when I got hired three years ago, I had medicaid. I didn't understand that I could still sign up for dental -- that I could have two insurances. I tried asking the HR lady, but she is one of those people who talks well and listens poorly. So I didn't sign up. And then when Punkin was born, I thought I had another chance. Ya. If I wanted to hand over $400 for...well...I'm not sure what. So now I am going to call the University and see if I can get me some grad students to fix my teeth. Meanwhile I feel really lame and not attractive. Blech. But at least it doesn't hurt. Did I mention that I am petrified of the dentist? Last time I went, I was 6 months pregnant and had to have an emergency root canal. I sobbed the entire time.
Punkin's big news? He learned that he is not welcomed to take fish sticks off other kids' plates. Last night he ate 2 cheeseburgers, one order of french fries, about 3/4 cup of mandarin oranges, and a glass of milk. Is anyone surprised that he is trying to sneak other kids' food? And he may be discovering that there is more than one Ducky. You see, somehow Ducky managed to be (1) in the laundry, (2) in his bed with his Nuk, and (3) on the chair in the living room. Tricky Ducky.
Now my broken teeth and I will go enjoy some ice cream.