You know, I've found that when I sleep in until 10:30 in the morning, I'm not so fucking crabby all day long. Strange how that works. If I'd just win that goddamn lotto, I could do this every morning. Fucking lotto winners, stealing my sleep-in money.
So, it's back to work tomorrow. Actually, first we have to take Mr. Z in for an early morning orthodontist appointment. Poor dude has no idea what's gonna hit him. He's got this underbite thing going on, and these orthodontists are going to bolt this "appliance" to the roof of his mouth that's basically supposed to push his whole upper toothitude outward. It sounds fucking miserable, and they're giving us this key thing to crank it every so often to make sure he's in constant pain. They're calling this part "Phase I." The next phase is braces, and the final phase is when they drive the old lady and I to the poor-house, shove us out the door and speed off. Bastards.
Apparently, Mr. Z can only have a liquid diet tomorrow. I guess the blood that will be shooting out of his mouth will make ingesting solid foods a little more difficult. I feel really bad for the boy. But I'm trying to look on the bright side -- at least he can't have hard or chewy candy anymore, and the little plastic bridge part that's going to sit between his molars will make him talk funny. And he has to wear a head-gear at night.
The old lady and I are both taking him tomorrow so we can make sure he'll hate us equally for ruining his life.