I finally broke down and called my dentist. On a Sunday. In the middle of the Bears game, no less. I told him I was pretty sure I was dying; my tooth hurt so badly. He prescribed antibiotics and pain killers and told me to give him a call in the morning. My whole face hurts. I'm taking my drugs and going to bed. Tomorrow I'm going to ask him to cut to the chase, pull out what's left of my teeth, and give me a set of dentures. I'm pretty sure I could live on ice cream and mashed potatoes.
I've had the song Bye Bye Birdie in my head all day. My son had to watch the movie and do a little report on it for his music class. Is it just me or does Dick Van Dyke (other than the color of his hair) look the same today as he did in Bye Bye Birdie?
Anyway, as part of the report on the American musical Bye Bye Birdie, my son needs to dress up like a character from the movie, complete with props, and he needs to act and talk like the chosen character. He is NOT looking forward to this. I feel bad for him because he doesn't like getting up in front of crowds. He doesn't like too much attention directed at him. On the one hand, I want to rescue him from having to stand up in front of his class and act like Elvis. On the other hand, I know it's the teacher's way of making sure he really paid attention to the film. Plus, it's a confidence building exercise and confidence is always important. Unless of course, you're the kid who gets sick, sweats profusely and throws up during your reenactment. I guess that wouldn't build too much confidence, would it? Here's hoping he's not that kid.
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Ok, all the permission slips are signed, gym uniforms washed, and homework packed up. I'm off to bed now. And it's before 12:00! That must be some sort of record.