This could be as simple (and as complicated) as a wisdom tooth…

Yesterday was a gloriously quiet day.  Today? Not so much.

A side of J’s face is swollen, and he has asked for Tylenol.  I gave him an ice pack.  All this, of course, after quite a bit of SIB and anxiety.

Extracting the information of what bothers him is quite laborious, but I managed to persuade him that telling me is better than not.

There is a rather angry-looking wisdom tooth there.  It has come in crooked, and if that is what is causing all this ruckus, well, glory glory hallelujah, I say…

Of course, we still have to pass through the test of walking through fire and fighting the Gorgon…going to the dentist.

Wouldn’t it be nice if that’s all it is?  Wouldn’t it be horrible if that’s all it is?

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