- The Forgotten Children of Appalachia: They are poor as hell and they have rotten teeth. But I have trouble believing Diane Sawyer when she tries to convince America that the two go hand in hand. I hate to point this out, but look at all those poor starving people in Africa. They have beautiful teeth–could it be that it’s because they’re not downing coke like it’s going out of style? Here’s an idea, mountain people: stop buying so much fucking soda. Just because you’re from Appalachia doesn’t mean you have to drink Mountain Dew. (The news special pointed out that people in the area buy twice as much as the rest of the country. Or something like that.) It seems like a no brainer–you’d save money and you’d have better teeth. 2 words: tap water. And if that doesn’t work for you, here are 2 more words: water filter.
- I had a lot more on my mind, but I forgot it when I got all worked up about Diane Sawyer and The Plight of the Cavity-Ridden Mountain People.
- I feel sorry for them. I do. But it’s not like they’re the only poor people in America. Diane Sawyer says they use soda as an anti-depressant. Haven’t they ever heard of whiskey?
- I know, that was kind of low. But honestly. When I’m out of money, soda doesn’t make my grocery list. Hell I don’t buy it even when I do have the money. I’m too busy trying to buy milk and fruit and vegetables and chicken legs. When my kids want something sweet, they eat granola bars and yogurt.
- And I know for a fact you could buy toothpaste and a toothbrush for less money than it costs to buy a 12-pack of Mountain Dew.
- Now. I’d be more inclined to believe that mountain kids get more cavities because they don’t have access to dental care. But then that brings me back to the poor starving Africans with the sparkling smiles.
- Rich people get cavities too, you know.
- Don’t they?
- I could do more research but I just don’t care that much.
All this coming from a mother whose daughter has had to have 8 fillings in 6 short months.
Merrick has taken his first official steps. He’s done it twice so far; three steps one time from my leg to the vacuum cleaner, and two steps a week later from the coffee table to the couch. He only walks when he’s not thinking about it. If he stops and realizes what he’s about to do, he’ll instantly sit down and just crawl to his destination. This could be because the first time he walked, I went nuts and screamed and scared him half to death. I didn’t mean to; I was just so excited. And a little upset. He’s only 9 months old for Pete’s sake. I’m not ready for this. He also tries to climb, which of course he has no business doing. I’m afraid he’s going to kill himself. I chase him all over the place, trying to catch him should he fall and protect his tender little head. I’m wore slap out at the end of the day; Caleb and I literally have to tag team just to keep up with the kid. He’s such a monkey.
Of course I love every minute of it and I’m extremely grateful he’s as healthy and active as he is, and on the plus side I might loose a little bit of weight running around after him.