Teething sucks...

Dear Nicky,

I've never seen you as uncomfortable as I have with this whole teething business. Your cheeks are flushed, your nose is running. Sheesh, what a pain. A little while ago, you woke up from a sound sleep crying in pain. I thought you might have wanted a bottle, but no. I gave you a quick squirt of Tylenol, some of which actually might have gotten into your mouth as you writhed and screamed. Also, you'd think I was trying to murder you when I try to wipe away some of those massive snots of yours. Try to relax about that, would ya? You seem okay now.

Mom took you out to Granny's today, leaving me home to chill. She means well, but somehow I get the feeling that if you're particularly difficult during her watch, I'm somehow to blame, or somehow derelict in my duties by enjoying a few brief hours doing nothing. So because you were apparently fractious today, Mom came home tired and cranky. No big deal, she soon snapped out of it, and every time she spends some time alone with you, I get more love and props for making it look so easy. I guess I'm just a great daddy, but you make it easy, too, because you're such a great little boy.


Love,
Dad