Hi. You know what? Boy. I have so many pictures to show you and stories to tell you and I can’t wait to write a big fat post about the last two weeks but right now I’d just like to say that I have stitches in the roof of my mouth. You know how they say that getting a shot in the roof of your mouth is one of the most painful thing that can ever happen to you? It’s not if the microsurgeon (who’s taking a patch of skin from this strange and tender landscape in your head and sewing it back into a different place in your head to help restore your damaged gums) puts some numbing goop and then a little freezy Q-tip on the spot where the needle’s going to go. Then the whole barbaric procedure turns out to be surprisingly endurable. Easier than getting your teeth cleaned, in my opinion. But still. Doritos are a challenge right now. Because I have stitches on the roof of my mouth! I asked Jack what he wanted for Father’s Day and he said, “A blow job,” and I said, well, these little sutures are kind of poky in there, and he said, “It doesn’t need to be from you.” I’m not sure what Jackson’s excuse is going to be but if he can dig up fifty bucks he’ll be off the hook, too.