Will Mali Zub's first tooth ever arrive?!
Poor little guy -- he's already been good and Baby Tylenol-ed and he's still howling like a madman. And our poor babysitter -- she's doing the best she can, but....
It's probably not helping that I'm up in my office, trying to work (trying being the operative word). You'd think that with all the drugs we have on the market, they'd have created something good and strong for our little man. Like Baby Prozac for teeth, or something. Something to give us all some rest!
I think we're going to have to give in and try the old-fashioned whiskey-on-the-gums way. It's what Peasant Woman would have wanted, I'm pretty sure, if she could have been here with us in our misery today.
In the meantime, I might just have to try a good old prayer/chant/mantra/whatever you want to call it. (It worked for Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love, the book I'm reading right now. Only she used it to get her husband to finally give in and sign the divorce papers....)
So here goes:
Teeth, teeth, we need some teeth!
We need them now, we need them how
Please, dear whiskey-loving God --
Give us some teeth!