the teeth

I've been asking myself the past few days if you've just decided that you hate me.  What with the screaming bloody murder in the night and the anger during the day, I thought I may have stopped being one of your favorite people.  As it turns out, there's a few teeth I spy just below your poor little pained gums and it is now coming clear to me, my poor little darling, that you are teething.  Your sister is four now, and it's been a little while since she was in this neck of the woods so I'm a little rusty.  Not to worry, my little bear, meds are on the way for you and lots of cuddles and maybe a little more patience on my part (although I make no guarantees at 2 am).  Hang in there little man, soon you'll have a few chompers and you know what that means?  More food to discover, your favorite thing.