I want my teef!

(To really "feel" this post I recommend that you place 4 cotton balls in the back corners of your cheeks and bite down on your molars)


Yesterday was the day that Mitch became less wise. He had all four wisdom teeth removed, none of which had erupted, so they were surgically removed. Poor guy!


The funny part was when I greeted him in recovery. The nurse came to get me in the waiting room and on the way down the hall explained to me that she came and got me sooner than they usually get parents because Mitch was acting so goofy. They were afraid he would get up and try to walk out! She wasn't kidding about the goofy part!


When I entered the room Mitch and I had a lengthy and heated discussion about getting his teeth! (this is where the cotton balls come in, Mitch had several hundred cotton squares tucked into his cheeks like a chipmunk)

Mitch: "Go get my teef!"

Mom: "Mitch, you don't want your teeth."

Mitch: "They cut out my teef and I want them!"

Mom: "They're probably in pieces."

Mitch: "If you don't go get my teef, I'm gonna get my butt up and go find them!"

Mom: "Are you going to put them under your pillow?"

Mitch: "Yup, I'm thrapped for cath." (strapped for cash)

Mom: "I'll ask for them before we leave."


That quieted him for a while. Trust me, I was fighting hard not to die laughing while having this sane conversation with my loony son.


When the nurse came back in, she asked how everything was going, and I said, "he wants his teeth." As she snickered along with me, she explained to Mitch that they get rid of the teeth even before he is out of anesthesia. That took care of that argument ... now on to eating. She explained how he should eat soft, lukewarm food, and he loudly exclaimed that he's going to have a Double Whopper! We calmed him down on the whopper idea, and soon we were ready to leave for home. Phew!


He spent the remainder of the day sleeping on the couch. By 5:30 I had prepared a very yummy and appropriate meal for My Man Mitch! Mashed potatoes, Perry gravy (hamburger gravy), and applesauce. I insisted that he get up and sit at the kitchen counter to eat. I thought it would be good for him to move around a little bit.




Soon, I heard stumbling and found him sprawled out on the carpet in the office. He was looking green, and was cold and clammy. I sponged him down with a cold washcloth and ordered him back to the couch! What a silly Mom I am to think that moving around would be good for him!



Later in the evening he seemed to perk up a bit, and actually began speaking short sentences. Up until this point, he had been texting on his phone and showing it to me to communicate. Of course, a few visitors in and out did wonders for his spirits!

Now he's on to tackling his poor torn-apart truck! His part came in last night, so I'm sure he'll soon be back to getting greasy in his shop. The new part cost a pretty penny, but I'm sure if we could've retrieved his teeth the tooth fairy would've come up with some pretty good cash to cover it! :)