Espen's Teeth and Dropping Meat In Public

Espen's first top tooth has made an appearance this week.  I cannot say for certain if it plans on staying out for the long haul, but it's a very impressive debut.  You know how everything always feels HUGE when it comes to mouth developments? Say a cut, or a chipped tooth.  It's like there's a titanic anomaly threatening to take over your entire oral cavity. Well. This tooth probably feels like the Missoula Ice Dam breaking and rushing through  the baby Columbia River Gorge.

In order to assuage Espen's potential, or real, discomfort, I accidentally stumbled upon a grand solution.  Forget those plastic teething toys, the real order of soothing teething distress is beef jerky. It's tasty, tough, and simultaneously soft enough to give baby gums a good massage.  Espen loved it.

He loved it so much he kept his whip of jerky clenched in his little paw as we moseyed around thrift stores and antique malls.  He oohhed and ahhhed over victorian chaise lounges with me, all the while drooling his dried cow into an squishy mass of masticated meat. He waved his meat hook gaily at the very somber antique dealer reigning supreme over the fanciest store on the block.  

Espen is the friendliest little human on the planet. He has never yet met a stranger and uses his most charming "Eh!" to get a person's attention when he sees them.  It's impossible for anyone with a soul to resist.  And yet, somehow, there are still the select few who choose to ignore the sunshine.  Said antique dealer was one of them.

We walked out of the store ten minutes later with good ideas for decorating and a sense of awe that a re-print of a map could cost 900.00.  He was cooing and gooing animatedly, commenting, I thought, on the outrageous mark-up.  

But wait. Something...was...missing.....

Where. Is. Baby's. Slimy Meat Teething Accessory.

I'll admit right here and now, that shop was empty except for us. There wasn't even a dog to pin it on.  Nope.

And more shamefully, did I walk back there and hunt down the meat surprise?

Nope.

Parents, friends, I hang my head in shame. SHAME! 

Ok, and maybe a little evil delight at the thought of said pompous dealer going to shut the shop for the night and noticing a little pile of....what is that?!?!?!?