Regis, I'd like to poll the audience.

Friends, do you think that if I put all of Newbie's teethers in the steam bag in the microwave and melted all but two of them to smithereens that the said survivors are now radioactive teethers?

The Hubs and I are debating the odds.

And Newbie is freaking out about his two front teeth that are desperately trying to break through.  So I'm kind of on a code-red teether recruit right now. But I don't want him growing tails instead of teeth in his mouth because his idiot mother gave him a radioactive teether that she blasted to death in the microwave.

What do you think?

Also, it's probably about time to alert the Press.  Status update: It is nap time, and I am three loads away from a VICTORY over Boris and his very bad attitude.

It is also important to note that all the jeans and jammies I thought I didn't have were actually just hiding out in the bottom of my laundry basket for an unknown number of months.  I have also come to the conclusion that it is high time for a full assault on the closet.  We need to engage in an all-out-purge of clothes that have been living with us for far too long.  Sianara, koala bear T-shirt.  My 19 year old self would be sorry to see you go, but the 25 year old in me sees one more slot to place a far more snuggly velour suit.

Friends, I hope you are conquering your own Boris today.  Whether it is a mutant mountain of laundry from months ago or a grand pile of Oreos, I hope you take. that. thing. DOWN.

I really want some Oreos.