A little over a month ago, my periodontist finally talked me into having this truly horrific procedure. We looked over the calendar and, being a good work doobie, I set the appointment for a Monday so I wouldn’t have to skip work or, even worse, have my performance on a Saturday be impacted by excessive mouth pain. I chose today, figuring my mouth would be healed up by Thanksgiving and, hey, so close to Thanksgiving, the kids would be in school, right?
Flash-forward to Saturday, when my daughter points out that she has a long weekend. No she doesn’t, I say, pointing to the Grafton Middle School lunch menu on our fridge, which has a lunch listing for the day. Yes, she does, she says, flipping to the Grafton Elementary School menu, which clearly shows “No school, in-service day” on the page.
So this is why my husband, who now has a perfectly good stay-at-home wife, is going in late to work today and why I, now a reluctant stay-at-home mom, will not be going to any parent-teacher conferences today at Grafton Middle School. Granted, I’ve met all of my son’s teachers already and spent a day watching most of them teach classes, so I really don’t have all that much to confer about.
Just watch, I’m going to be home with a mouth full of cotton and THAT’S when someone will call me up for a job interview. It never fails. The last time I went for a job interview was the day after my one and only root canal, and I’ve always suspected that I didn’t get that one because I may have drooled mid-interview.
Also, having never been a drug addict or even a recreational drug user, consider this fair warning that my afternoon posts may be a bit loopier than normal — I don’t react to painkillers well!
Meanwhile, have some entertainment on me: