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Teething.

That’s right, teething. It is horrible for everyone involved. And my Tiny Little has slammed into the world of teething on her ass and she’s pretty pissed about it.

Little’s mom dropped off today and basically told me “good luck, we’re giving her away for free” and waltzed out the door to work. I have never seen anyone as happy to go to work as this mother was. I think she prayed there would be a training accident on the gun range that would result in no deaths but require a massive amount of time at work. Or a base lockdown that lasted for 19 hours. Mom’s final words to me on her way out the door- good luck.

Oh shit. The Giant is in big trouble.

Within 20 minutes I knew exactly why mom was handing the Little off to anyone willing to take her. She was crying in her sleep. Anyone who knows anything about Littles knows that crying in their sleep means awake time is going to be pure torture.

Witty- kill oxygen

Screaming ensued. Bottles were thrown away. Diapers went flying. And weeping, dear sweet baby Jesus was there weeping.

And of course, the Little was upset also.

The Giant barely made it out alive. I’ve prescribed myself a Twinkie to ease the pain. And guess what, the doctor said I need to have one Twinkie every 4 to 6 hours. I love the shit out of my doctor.

P.S. My doctor really did say that. She called with some paperwork I needed for work and she could hear the anarchy in the background. Seeing as how she has met my all my Littles since they accompany me everywhere, she knew that this Little is sweet-natured normally. So the Doc told me to take my Twinkies and we’ll worry about Twinkie side effects after this round of teething is over.


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