Chicken bone in my lunch meat? Wait a minute!

Mr. Foot Down here, in a follow-up to the earlier post about Jack losing his front two teeth. By the way, just to report, they were helped along by a playground accident at Duxford, with lots of blood gushing out of the mouth, loosened teeth, and Mrs. Thumb Up playing the super-calm, competent mom. That set the stage for the imminent departure of both the front teeth.

I was at home with the kids the next week while Mrs. Thumb Up and a friend jetted off for two days for a trip to Prague (it's hard being such an awesome husband, but never mind that). We were eating wraps with chicken breast lunch meat. At one point Jack handed me a small bit of bone that he had found in his wrap. 'That's weird,' I said, 'usually you don't get bone left in the lunch meat'. I put it on the corner of my plate, and we went on.

A minute or so later, I looked at Jack poised to take another bite and saw a bit less white than I expected. 'Jack, open your mouth', I told him. Sure enough. 'Jack, you lost your tooth!' He smiled widely. 'Now, where did it go? Did you swallow it? Is it on your plate?' We looked around but saw nothing out of place. He must have unknowningly swallowed it, I thought to myself.

A few minutes later, I looked down on my plate. 'Jack,' I laughed. 'I know where your tooth is'. I held up the 'chicken bone'. 'Here it is', I said. He and Theo laughed too. So much for my powers of logic and my thinking ill of the company that made the lunch meat.

Mrs. Thumb Up very graciously says that 99.99% of the time I'm the smartest person she knows, but this falls into that .01%. Judging by how 'bone'-headed I was, I think it's safe to say we need to revise that .01% upwards.