Sarah and I waited all afternoon yesterday for a thunderstorm but were shot down. A smallish one just blew through, but she's at school, where she was no doubt all but crawling under her desk. Sigh. I gave her a granola bar this morning for breakfast (runnin' late) and heard an "OW!" about ten seconds later. Me (no coffee yet: as soon as I get up it's girls-cat-cat-dog-fish before I do anything for, you know, myself): "What th- I mean, is something wrong?" Sarah: "I hurt myself with this stupid granola bar!" She was attempting to eat it in such a way as to spare this one tooth right in the front of her bottom jaw (getting pushed around pretty rapidly by her braces) and the granola bar slipped and scraped this gaping wound on her chin that started as a pimple and is now threatening to take over her face because SHE CAN'T KEEP HER HANDS OFF IT and yes, I've tried flaxseed oil and about 300 other potential remedies and am now at the point of ordering up an exorcism.
The wise woman would be folding laundry and running to the store right now.
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