Down In the Mouth

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It’s official.  I have run out of things to say.  I looked at writer’s block prompts but I don’t particularly care what my dog would say about me if he could talk and I have no interest in extreme sports, whether someone would teach them to me for free or not.  Even if I was interested in writing about those things, would anybody be interested in reading it?  I highly doubt it.

All I can think about is my mouth hurting and all the ridiculous things I agreed to do this week.  I appreciate my kids’ teachers, I really do.  But I hate those lists they send home for Teacher Appreciation Week.  Every day they have a “suggestion” for what I should send into school.  They’re not big requests and they specifically say parents shouldn’t feel obligated.  Yeah, right.  My kids make me feel obligated. Do I really want to be the only parent who doesn’t send in something?  Nope.  So today I went to the store to pick up single flowers to send in to the teachers.  Tomorrow I’m supposed to come up with school supplies.  The next day, candy.  And then I should encourage my children to make their teachers a card.  And I was gently reminded not to forget the music, PE, art, and Spanish teachers.  Last count for all the teachers of my three kids is 15.  So I’m supposed to send in 15 gifts for 5 days?  I don’t think so.  They’ll have to be content with their flowers and maybe a specially baked treat on Friday.  If I make them all cupcake apples with a cute little bookworm on top, wouldn’t that cover the other four days?  I hope so, because that’s the plan.  And it’s a plan that depends entirely on what my mouth feels like.  Right now, it’s doubtful. 

I also agreed to make a side dish for Fantastic Friday which, inexplicably, is on Thursday.  Why?  Because I was feeling pretty good last week when the email request was sent.  It was the same impulse that prompted me to schedule a parent/teacher conference and a FedEx pick-up the day after oral surgery.  The idiot impulse.  Or maybe the martyr impulse.  Whichever.  It doesn’t matter.  The point is now I’m committed and I’ll have to follow through.  Although, I didn’t breathe a word to anyone about the cupcake apples, so I will probably save that one for the last week of school.

A small plate with a serving of mashed potatoes.

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What I really want to do is take my medicine, read some books, and sleep. Oh, and “eat” something other than soup, mashed potatoes, and applesauce.  I just want to eat, with the fun parts like biting and chewing.  I read on a website that I should ingest anything that I could swallow whole–mashed potatoes, ice cream, macaroni and cheese.  I don’t know about you, but I have always chewed my macaroni and cheese.  Of course, everyone knows that here in America we would take all our food  through a funnel if we thought we could eat more that way.    I wonder if that would work for pizza?  If not, I guess there’s always the blender….

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