Toothache...

Dear God - he's like a caged lion as it is, throw in some toothache and well... you can imagine. I'm made of dark stuff so the yelps that he's omitting is amusing, but that makes me a bad person so I won't laugh - honest... (if men had children, we'd only have one lol)

The pain killers he's on for the muscle strain behind his ribs is causing problems for what he can take for the toothache. Maybe I shouldn't have said "a smack to the back of the head with a shovel might help" to the lovely lady on the end of the phone at nhs 24, but I'm beginning to grasp at straws (although I'm sure it might work...).

He's been in a topsy turvy fettle today, although it seemed to sooth once the girls got home. They were in the house long enough to drop off their suitcase and then they "see you later"ed as the front door slammed and they were off out to play. I kept him happy with a roast chicken although "why would you want a roast on a day as hot as today" was asked. The answer "you asked for one". "HHhhhhhmmmppppffffff" was the reply.

I now have to ring the dentist in the morning to get an emergency appointment, but he's told me to tell them when he's not available. "It doesn't work like that poppet" - "well it should". "That defeats the purpose of emergency appointments...".

I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a peaceful night, but in our house anything can happen, and invaribly does, so I'm not holding my breath.