Milk

The horrors of dentition have borne milk teeth. In the space of a fortnight he now has a top and bottom set of ivories and seems a lot cheerier in his general demeanour.

Of course he’s plenty more teeth to go, but I’ve been informed the first four are the ones that really piss them off, not that I buy that for a second. I’ve listened to too many absolutes, my mantra is to expect the worse, then you won’t be disappointed.

And for the record, nothing helps with teething, those amber beads, cold carrot sticks, beef rib bones -actually I didn’t try those (that was a suggestion from a lady at the gym) and I don’t really do beef ribs outside of the odd visit to Duke’s Brew and Que and that’s not been for well over a year. As for over-the-counter remedies, they can all do-one. I mean it’s not as if the baby can complain how about how shit they are, ring up Watchdog and have a chat with a researcher with a view to getting their moaning, miserly faces on the telly to blah, blah at length about some trivial and wholly resolvable inconsequence, and possibly a chance to sneak into Sophie Raworth’s dressing room and have a quick poke around her drawers.

I’m pretty sure ‘baby Bonjela’ is just pork gelatin and cough syrup…Speaking of which, Tixylix, boar bile would be more effective. It doesn’t even work as a placebo-by-proxy because the second you pour the cack down his neck absolutely nothing happens. At least the physical act of applying Bonjela gives the merest impression of its effectiveness as you’ve momentarily confused them into silence. One minute they’re thinking ‘ouch my bloody gums hurt, wah, wah etc.’ and the next they’re ‘hang on, one of these arseholes is waggling their wine-stained finger in my mouth… Oh they’ve gone. Ouch my bloody gums hurt, wah, wah etc.’

It’s utter bullshit.

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