The Lovely Daughter had her wisdom teeth removed at 8:00 this morning.
For awhile afterward we sat nestled together, huddled under blankets on a couch at the oral surgeon's, waiting for the anesthesia to wear off enough for her to stand up and get to the car. That was the best part.
The bleeding and Percocet wooze and puffy cheeks are not so good, and reduced us to watching an episode of America's Top Model earlier this afternoon. She's asleep now.
While waiting for my child to emerge from surgery, I went back and finished the memoir eat.pray.love at the urging of several of my wonderful friends whose opinions I cherish.
Here's my rundown, in case y'all care, which I suppose you do not:
Charming, humorous, adept writing.
Great travel: I, too, love to wander the streets of Italy eating gelato. Sign me up for that part.
Gorgeous blonde who finds romance in Italy and Bali. I imagine that a number of my former divorce clients, back in the workforce long before they had planned and duking it out every year over holiday visitation, would sign up for that part.
Blitheringly narcissistic tale of the path to spiritual nonenlightenment, the objective of which seems to be how wildly and ecstatically connected you can feel to a sense of the universal rather than what you might have to share with others.
The Amazon reviews are at decided extremes. I seem to be in the emphatic minority.
'Nuff time on that one.