This is the St. Louis version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. When he was a baby.
Micah has exhibited a split personality lately. I suggested to my wife that it might be the result of an overnight visit by people in a flying saucer or an ergot-infused bottle a la Salem, MA, circa 1692.
Julie had a logical, if slightly less plausible, theory: Our son is teething.
Duality in diapers
The theory proved true. The Friday morning marked an exciting turn of events: Micah's first tooth broke through.
In the run-up to the momentous day, Dr. Jekyll manifested himself by screaming, crying, becoming red in the face and refusing to sleep on a flat surface for more than 60 seconds at a time.
We tried shushing, rocking, singing, reading, pleading and begging. We considered a ritual cleansing but opted for a regimen of baths and early bedtimes instead.
In the last several days, Mr. Hyde has resurfaced. Micah is smiling, playing with his toys, lunging for the nearest dog in bear-hug stance and sleeping well at night.
I don't claim to be a prophet, but all signs point to an easy path ahead for the remaining teeth.
Julie tells me these things come in pairs. I suspect another will come soon, followed by a period of unmatched rest.
Sure, his first tooth caused pain. But now that he knows how it feels, there's no way he'll throw a fit as his remaining pearly whites appear.
Is this one of those nightmares you can't wake up from?
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