It almost doesn't hurt at all!!!

Thanks to everyone who stuck with me through my root-canal whininess. Good thing I never tried to have a baby. I would've sunk my teeth into my coach's hand faster than you can say "epidural." That probably doesn't make sense. What do I know? I've never been pregnant, nor have I been in a labor room very long. They kicked my teary-eyed self out of my sister's delivery five minutes into her screaming "Get it OUT!!!!! GET IT OUT NOW!!!!!" which, I'm guessing, was pretty much a blessing. God, does it hurt to watch someone you love in pain.

Anyhoo . . . .

. . . regarding the root canal--'tis finished. Ta-Da!!! And it only hurts when I chew. Or say certain sentences like "I need more wine to wash these pain meds down."

Now, for the exciting, albeit somewhat pathetic, part. Here's what's keeping me going--Dick and I are going to watch my favorite KC Curling team (currently, but not permanently, known as) the Old Yellers, tomorrow night at Pepsi MidWest at 7:15. What could be more fun?! Go Jeff D., Ed W., Carl M., Mike A., and . . . am I missing anybody? To you, Gentlemen, I respectfully say "Wicky, Wacky, Woo." (Guess who's been studying her Curling glossary? Maybe that's what you should call yourselves.)