I found out today that I have an unusually small mouth in proportion to my body.
I had no idea. If someone should ever call me a big mouth, which no one ever has, and probably won’t since that term isn’t really fashionable these days, but if it should happen, I now have an actual medical diagnoses that it is untrue.
It turns out that I am also tongue tied. I thought that was just an expression, but it’s a real thing.
Though being tongue tied is also something I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of. Certainly not when it comes to being symbolically tongue tied with my use of the written word.
I’m just dispelling potential idioms related to my mouth, left, right and center.
Which, I, um, er, am not sure how I feel about these things. Mostly ambivalent, actually, with a peppering of taken aback and a smattering of surprised – for good measure.
I was also misinformed about the length of the appointment. I was told at least half a dozen times that this time, for real, I’d be there all day. It turned out to be more like two hours.
Then I went to Lowe’s, where, for some reason, the Bee Gees were jamming on the PA and I got a little jiggy while picking up some cinderblocks for my next gardening project.
Which was so much more fun than being in a dentist’s chair.
“I got fire in my mind
I get higher in my walkin’
And I’m glowin’ in the dark
I give you warnin”
Which leaves, I’m sure, the question burning in everyone’s minds:
Can he disco dance in his combat boots?
I’m not sure that I can, but when did that ever stop me from trying?
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