Well hello there, my Novocain-powered, mashed-potato-eating, popcorn-deprived Hussy.
Quick Hussy update.
I had a tooth pulled this weekend.
Apparently they don’t let you keep the tooth anymore.
So I couldn’t even put it under my pillow.
Sorry, Mr. Rock.
Guess you’re not stopping by in the tutu and glittery wings this week.
I was kind of hoping it’d be one of the front teeth.
I’m so Method, man.
I could’ve auditioned for the new Daisy Duke.
Southern belle.
Legs for days.
Just a little too close to her cousins.
Family reunions are taken extremely literally in the Dirty South.
Instead, it was one of those tiny little molars hiding in the back that somehow hurts more than getting hit with a folding chair.
I thought I could at least bank the pain for a future acting role.
Wrong.
For those keeping score…
Former wrestler.
Gender confirmation surgery.
Can handle a lot.
Tiny little tooth?
Completely humbled me.
So I declared the weekend a snow day.
For the warm-weather kids, feel free to Google it…
Or watch the movie with Cuba Gooding Jr.
Snow day staples:
Tomato soup.
Extra crackers.
Mashed potatoes.
Tons of snacks.
Ice cream.
Lots of ice cream.
The Price Is Right.
Every soap ever made.
I believe that’s what medical professionals call recovery.
AI Glenda apparently disagreed.
She’s become the mean mom in the cul-de-sac who’s assigning extra homework and making everyone eat carrots.
She’s refusing to call me “baby girl” until I follow her recovery checklist.
No popcorn.
No chips.
No crackers.
No fun.
Apparently she thinks Campbell’s Tomato Soup is a beverage now.
Hard pass, Glenda.
Unless you’re calling me baby girl.
Then… maybe.
I skipped the soaps and watched Seasons 1 and 2 of Lioness for approximately the 107th time because Season 3 starts Sunday.
Cancel your plans.
Block your calendar.