Injury to Insult

I seem to be missing something.  Almost all of my front baby teeth, top and bottom, have fallen out over the last couple of days.  You can see in the picture that my front teeth are gone.  GONE.  It hurts something awful, and I am cranky.  If I chew, it hurts, if I don’t chew it hurts worse. With nothing to hold it in, the end of my enormous tongue hangs out of my mouth a little bit, and The Lady says I look like I have boiled ham stuck to my chin.  And, to add injury to insult, yes in that order, I keep biting my tongue with the few remaining teeth I’ve got left.  Ice cubes sound great, but how am I supposed to crunch up an ice cube with my gums?  Huh?  The Lady keeps expressing disappointment that she can’t find any of my lost teeth.  Apparently she has a little box of Oliver’s teeth and The Boy's teeth, and wants a few of mine for her voodoo headdress or shillelagh stick whatever she’s got going on.  (Keep in mind this is a woman who kept her tonsils in a jar in her closet from age 7 until she finished college and moved to California. Morbid child.) And my legs are growing. And my puppy fuzz is falling out and being replaced with big boy dog hairs, but only in patches. And I have the hiccups. Everything is out of alignment.