I'm feeling like a bit of a lazy failure today. A few days ago I decided that I was healed enough after the dreaded wisdom tooth surgery to stop taking Vicodin. I told myself I would alternate between heavy doses of ibuprofen and Tylenol because honestly, it didn't really hurt all that bad. This morning I got up, the swelling is almost gone and the bruising is surprisingly faded but WOW does it hurt today. It's like the worst jaw ache I've ever had. Really tight and sore so I caved and took one of the Vicodin.
I know, I know, you're saying, "So what! Why feel bad! That's what it's for!" The reason I feel bad about this (besides the fact that every one I take is one less to be hoarded) is because Mitch is out of town for work and it's just Kira and me home. She is such a terror and today I realized that during her entire life I've been constantly prepared to whisk her off to the emergency room at a moment's notice. She's either climbing 50 feet up a tree, or doing a double flip on the trampoline, or bringing home her "new friend" who turns out to be a strange 150 pound rottweiler wearing a barbed choke collar. I can't do much whisking when I'm stoned out of my gourd on narcotics. (For all the dangerous stuff she does, we haven't had to take her to the emergency room for a few years. Knock on wood.)
So this afternoon I couldn't stand the pain anymore and I took a pill. Thankfully I've kept her busy since she got home from school with making muffins, playing with the dog (our dog, not the rottweiler) and I even took out my precious Dr. Quinn DVDs and I'm letting her watch those. Good parenting? I don't know. In one scene of Dr. Quinn, a man was wanting to spend some time with a saloon hooker and the bar owner said, "She's five dollars!" and Kira said, "Hey! I could afford to buy her!" Cringe.
Tonight we are going to watch 20,000 leagues Under the Sea, and then it should be bedtime. Then I can relax. Mitch is on his way home and should be here later tonight. Whew.