Wise no more

Friday, I completed a rite of passage for many adults:

My wisdom tooth was removed.

You heard me right, my wisdom tooth, not teeth, but one lonely, fight-till-the-end, determined to undo thousands of dollars my parents spent of braces, little tooth. I don't know what happened to the other 3 'wise' teeth. I either soaked up all that wisdom and caused them to disintegrate or I was never intended to be that wise.

So, since Friday morning, I've looked like:

• a lopsided chipmunk
• a redneck with a 'chaw' in her mouth
• someone who got stung by a bee and had a horrible reaction
  
• a tired mother who lost a "don't bring that stick inside this house" battle with her 18-month-old son's kicking feet
  

I'm trying to avoid public places as much as I can and praying it doesn't start turning blue/purple. I don't think I can stand anymore painfully truthful statements from the 4-year-old like, "Mom, your cheek is REALLY big" or a quick rebuttal from her loving father smirking from ear-to-ear like, "In more ways than you know honey." Even the boy will occasionally take a long glance at my face from side to side to side, then look up at my eyes and cautiously say, "Mama?"

Thankfully so, the pain has been minimal, nothing a little Tylenol can't handle. Just interested to see what my face morphs into next.