And isn’t that about it? “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.” Yes, that’s just about it, but not quite. What I’d like, actually, is for those two front teeth to come out.
Poor Little Schrock. For weeks, his two top teeth have been loosey-goosey. For weeks, we’ve brushed carefully around them. And for weeks, he’s chewed carefully around them, demonstrating a remarkable aptitude for angular eating; i.e., coming in at just the right angle and avoiding those two loose incisors.
It’s not that we haven’t tried. But when his father, he of the matching blue eyes, attempted extraction, there commenced enough howling and yipping that it was quickly aborted.
Sigh. The teeth will come out. I know this. In a dark corner of my mind, though, I harbor a secret fear that he’ll be the only senior on the basketball team still chewing his burger at an angle.
Tooth concerns aside, however, there’s plenty of other stuff I want for Christmas. If I were a beauty contestant, for instance, I’d ask for world peace. This is a surefire judge pleaser and makes for a bang-up interview. I’d pair that with world hunger, both of which I’d love to solve, and I’d not only sweep the interview portion, but I’d leave the world a better place.
Since I’m not a pageant participant with legs up to here, I’d settle for peace in my piece of the world and a little help with our own hunger games. Any mother who’s raised sons will know the truth of Rhonda’s Maxim #97, “Those aren’t really boys. They’re food furnaces thinly disguised as boys.” Nod here, please, if you agree.