yeah. sure. let's talk about it.

i mean...my husband can't look at me without laughing for the past day.

insert jokes here and here and here.

but this happened people. i've reverted back to 7th grade with not being able to look people in the eye, pushing my lunch around a plate, and awkwardly smiling.

i may as well stop wearing makeup, stop plucking my eyebrows, and throw on a vest and a bodysuit.

i could rock a bodysuit. i really could...and i did. several.

you see...i was desperate to look younger. i don't feel like i'm aging very gracefully.

so i went and got a set of these...



before...


after


okay...i'll stop showing you oversized pictures of my scary teeth.

but people...i'm excited. i'm whipping these chiclet-like front teeth right into shape. 

i've been told it could take as little as nine months. nine months i can do. i've done it before. 

and so...as my farmer said last night when i got home:

"that sure is an expensive nine months of birth control."

ouch.