As I sat at the patio table across from my most favorite little girl, I thought about how perfect it all was. The weather, the company, the scenery . . . all of it. Perfection.
The garden is starting to look positively amazing as the perennials have started to sprawl and meander and layer themselves.
Penny was mercifully quiet as she sat playing in the grass. The floppy little pup recently discovered that she has a voice and has been practicing using it entirely too often. Her moments of silence are worth cherishing.
It was a beautiful, sunny evening. It was neither too hot nor too cold, as evidenced by the happy little frog that was hanging out in the pond just feet away.
As Alexis and I sat enjoying a particularly delicious batch of Potato and Tomato Bake and some grilled corn on the cob, we chatted about our plans for the weekend. Her loopy curls bounced as she excitedly reminded me that her dance recital was just "one sleep" away.
And then Mr. Husband joined us out on the patio. My blissful peace was ripped to shreds in an instant.
"Daddy, my tooth is REALLY loose. Will you pull it for me?" Alexis asked with a grin on her face.
"Sure," he replied as he reached into her mouth and gave a good yank.
Words jammed in my head as I tried not to gag. I WAS EATING, PEOPLE.
Flappy teeth are always gross. They are extra gross when I'm trying to eat my dinner.
Moments later, Alexis cackled with glee as blood dripped from the new hole in her smile. She sat that nubby little mass of discarded human matter on her napkin, just inches from my face.
They were both mighty proud of themselves.
I still haven't forgiven them.
That's two. How many more of those disgusting little flappy baby teeth am I going to have to survive?
Wait. Don't answer that. It's better that I just don't know.
