Here is the little green man I had stuck in my teeth! More than a few readers had questions about that particular tweet, so here you go, yes you especially Princess AnnieBella. I actually have two of them, one at home in my dynamite box and one in my toy drawer at Auntie Cynthia's. He doesn't scream very loud when I bite him, but when I shake my head with death-roll zeal, his little arms and legs smack around in a very satisfying way that I enjoy very much. Very much. Since I am still a bit scanty in the teeth department, sometimes he gets hung up on the snaggly bits and The Lady has to pick him out like an errant piece of popcorn. I don't like it when she sticks her fingers in my mouth, and she is forever shoving her hands down my throat to pull out the garden rocks and slimy chewed up paper towels from the trash bin in the kitchen. Now she's developed this habit of pulling my rather generous lips over my head so she can examine the disappearance and progress of my teeth. Sometimes I feel like a horse, but I exhibit maturity beyond my months and never bite her when she feels the need to play doctor. So really, can you blame me for needing to execute a Little Green Man every once in a while?