I am feeling rather pleased with myself. I have cut a tooth and had my first taste of whiskey. The tooth came through on Saturday but on Saturday night it was so sore that I had to do proper crying to let my parents know how much it hurt.
Daddy provided first aid - he poured a glass of whiskey and then dipped a finger in the whiskey and smeared it on my poor hurty gums. He then added some calpol. I swallowed some and distributed the rest around my mouth and all down my clothes. Mummy drank the rest of the whiskey. Hold on Mummy, that's my medicine not yours!
After about 15 minutes hard crying in solitary confinement Mummy returned to me and I suckled breaking off occasionally to let her know how much pain I was in. She then laid me down again and with the whiskey kicking in added to the calpol and a full stomach I drifted off to sleep.
Apparently I have 23 more teeth to cut in my milk set alone. Waaaaaaaaaah!