that I:

* sat in a chair in the big back room where they clean all the kids’ teeth, waiting for the usual chit-chat from the dentist about cavities and crooked teeth when, instead, the practice’s orthodontist pulled up a chair to talk about my six yr old’s crossbite. She’s getting a palate expander next summer, although we could do it sooner and that would be good for her, he tells me. My tiny first grade girl is starting the big dental work. To prepare for that and to help her very small mouth right now, she’s having two baby teeth pulled the day after her seventh birthday (and the day before Thanksgiving). They will also try to fill the three new cavities at that time, but they don’t like to do any dental work for longer than 30 minutes on a little kid, so we might have to come back for that. Thus begins the long road of orthodontic work. Also, as we pull the third tooth in a few months, I assume the tooth fairy will have to pony up something significant.

* heard more than one fifteen year old say “that’s what she said” or “that’s what he said.” My husband thinks it’s refreshing that adolescents still say such silly things. Every once in a while, they nail it perfectly, too.

flipped through the newest Southern Accents and saw one of my favorite stationer’s calling cards featured in an article about the same. Checked out The Paper Menu lately? You should.

* watched my brave boy stretch out in the blue leatherette dentist chair (same big back room) and open wide, even though he didn’t like it and even though he most certainly didn’t want to.

* received a phone call while out for dinner with the Husband. My mother came over to hang out with the urchins while I had a stress-release dinner out (serious orthodontic work surprises require that I be coddled, it turns out) and before the drinks got to the table, the Crabcake called us to announce that he’d finally done the big stuff sitting on the potty. We’ve been working on the second half of potty-goin’ for MONTHS now and we finally promised the kid we’d buy him a fire station if he’d just produce. Turns out my mother is the magic man.

And there you have it. Orthodontia, calling cards, poop. That’s what SHE SAID!