flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

January 11, 2006

If You Love Him, Give Him Crabs!

So, The Heir has been complaining about a sore tooth. Daddy has looked and saw nothing. I looked when brushing and flossing his teeth Monday night. Lo and behold, there’s a gaping hole.

I was amazed at my own calm. “Hey, kid, it’s nothing. Look in my mouth. See if you can count all the silver spots. Hey, can’t count to a google? Well, never mind then! And I survived!”

But to John, I was all freaked out. We brush the kids’ teeth 2 times a day. We floss. We rinse. We give fluoride drops. We don’t let them have juice, but they drink milk and water instead. Yes, they get dessert. But come on! My 5 year old has cavities. The emergency dentist appointment yesterday revealed 4 of them. He has his first filling.

I HATE being a parent. Have I said that before?

So, anyway, being the lame-ass parents we are, we tried to make up for letting his teeth rot out of his head by spoiling the crap out of him yesterday. He got a wand that lights up, so his Harry Potter spells carry a little more weight (though his mispronunciation of the incantations would make Flitwick cringe!). He got to pick what he wanted for lunch (he wanted Chinese dragon bones – yes, he’s just like his dad.) And, when they offered him a little crab of his own, his dad said, “Sure, why not?”

My mom summed it up (I really am just like her.) When John said, “they gave it to him, free. What was I supposed to do?” Mom said, “If they offered you an alligator, would you have brought that home?”

Now, Bill sits on my kitchen counter.

Why Bill? That’s what Stinky named him. Of all the crusty, bellicose names he could have had, Bill was what he got.

So watch for the new and shining adventures of Bill, the crab. Last night, Bill almost got poached (his jar was originally placed on top of the toaster oven, which got a bit warm when John was making the garlic bread for the evening.)

I’m sure he’ll lead a very interesting, if short, life.




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