You're currently cutting the Molars from Hell. The little suckers are giving you (and therefore, us) a monstrous amount of trouble. This is your go-to molar face:
After trying every other combination of remedies short of a Percoset with a vodka tonic chaser, your dad and I finally hit on the magic combination: Tylenol and a Fudgesicle.
But since we can't feed you Fudgesicles all night long (I mean - it's not like you're Elvis), you didn't sleep much last night. So I'm sure it goes without saying that your dad and I didn't sleep at all. Thor took the 12a-3a shift, and I took 3a-6a. Your dad, having been to the Navy's survival/prisoner of war school, is a little better prepared for this kind of parenting challenge. At least, he seemed to be in decent shape when we passed each other on the stairs at 3am.
If only those molars were real live people - I'd have your dad elbow them in the throat, Navy style.
Love,
Mom
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