There are a few conundrums of sorts floating around in my head. Some of them aren't really solvable problems, just more things that deserve a loud "ack".
Every time I run errands I take Husband's car. And pretty much every time I take Husband's car it's completely out of gas. As in, the gas light is blaring the second the car starts, and I sit there wondering how long it's been like this, and that I'm really glad there's a gas station just around the corner.
Do you think he runs out of gas on purpose, knowing that I'll need the car next? Probably, right?
Every morning Number Four stands in our living room, pointing her chubby little finger and screeching, "MOMMY!!! MOMMY!!!!" until I plug the Christmas tree lights in.
Number Four's speech still isn't all that great, but man has she mastered the inflections of the word "mommy" to pretty much mean anything.
You know, the first time you hear your baby call you "mommy" your heart does this big flip of joy and then goes parading around the block with a banner and some trumpeters. Then your baby figures out how to use the word as ammo against the flimsy barrier you call sanity, and it's not so awesome anymore.
At the dinner table a few nights ago we were discussing the absurd lateness of loose teeth in our family. Husband and I were late in getting and losing teeth, but Two Bits is 7 1/2 now and not a single tooth is even slightly wiggly.
Then this morning Two Bits comes running up to me in a hurry and says, "I was just in the bathroom looking in the mirror and LOOK!" The she opened her mouth and guess what I saw?
Her two bottom adult teeth growing in right behind her two firmly rooted baby teeth.
I gotta tell you I freaked out a little. I'm still kind of freaking out because WHAT IN THE HECK?!!! Does this happen often? Do you know? What are we supposed to do? Besides, you know, freak out?
I called my mom - because that's what you do when you're freaking out - and apparently my older sister had this happen with her first adult tooth. So thanks to faulty genes, once again my kids are mutants. (It's a good thing no one in our extended family has one of those extra long spines that protrude away from the pelvis like a little tail.)
But in all seriousness - what should we do?
In case you're wondering, we don't have dental insurance. Because Husband's job is....grrrrrr. So no benefits. But I'm thinking that since one of Two Bit's adult teeth is like halfway grown in back there, we should probably get the baby teeth out of the way before people start noticing we have a shark daughter?
Because of the whole tooth fiasco I was explaining to my kids how and why baby teeth fall out and where the big teeth come from.
I drew diagrams.
It was amidst the tooth discussion that Husband says, "Baby teeth DO NOT have roots, Melissa!" Husband thinks I'm a moron and loves to correct me whenever possible. But really I'm the genius in our family because how can a grown man live 31 1/2 years and never find out that baby teeth have roots?! Honestly, how does he think they stay in your head?
So if anyone ever asks you who's the smartest in this relationship - ME. Definitely me.
I always have to remind Husband that when I was in Kindergarten I was so smart that they gave me an IQ test. I have no idea what the results actually were, but my mom tells me that they were literally in the "genius range". And you've totally got to believe that, because I'm like the smartest person alive. (Not even I can read that sentence without openly laughing.)
Not only am I really not the smartest person alive, because woah, I'm so not, but I'm also still a little stuck in immaturity-ville. I was telling Husband, just tonight, that I don't feel like a grown-up. As we were talking I was polishing off a frozen Schwan's sherbet push-up. And right as the words "grown-up" came out of my mouth I took the last slurp of sherbet, flinging most of it all over my face and down my chin.
Accidents like this totally prove my point.
And about a month ago I had to give the opening prayer in Sacrament Meeting at church. FYI, not by choice. Because usually microphones and I don't get along, even when I'm trying to be mature.
(Me + microphone = horror & stupidity.)
My mind went completely blank when I got up there. Part of the actual prayer went like this:
"And thank you for........the weather? uhhhhhhh......."
It really wasn't that big of a shock when they called and asked Husband to speak for 15 minutes this week and didn't even mention me. (Not that I'm complaining.)