I am happy to report that I am infected. My dentist prodded the bruise under my chin and my swollen gums; decided against removing the stitches because the gum has grown around them; recoiled in disgust when she got too close to my breath; and prescribed strong antibiotics and even stronger painkillers. So, I am officially not a big baby.
This Is Me:
I am a little fat. I like food; what can I say? I have dull hair: mousey. I don’t wear much make-up and have no need of a dressing table. If I look like a bag lady, I chose my own clothes. If I look nice, the Hub picked them for me. Despite all this, I am a little vain. This photograph is from 2003. I had to go back that far to find one of me that I liked. But I don’t really care: my husband still thinks I’m beautiful and if he doesn’t, he loves me enough to lie about it. I’m lucky. I have two boys. They never lie to me. Still, you can't have everything.
I have the funniest readers in the blogosphere (not necessarily ha ha…)
The Laughing Housewife 
I welcome your comments but be warned: I'm menopausal and as likely to snarl as smile. Wine or Maltesers are an acceptable bribe; or a compliment about my youthful looks and cheery disposition will do in a pinch.