White's Bite

Ada is teething again. She's drooling more, she's spitting up again, and she's biting me again. For some reason, the first thing I think when she nips at me (other than OUCH!) is "it's the White's Bite!".

White's is a boot brand popular with firefighters and cowboys. In fact, I know about the brand from Chris's cowboy uncle, who owns a pair. Uncle Cowboy and I don't see eye to eye on, well, on pretty much anything, but he does offer a glimpse into a world that I would not know otherwise. (The fact that this happens to be a totally sexist, Republican, anti-environmentalist world is sort of a bummer for me. I take heart in the knowledge that he's only related to Chris by marriage.)

I should take back that statement about not ever seeing eye to eye with Uncle Cowboy. There was that time during the Clinton administration when we both agreed that the president wasn't our favorite. (To him, Clinton was way too liberal, to me he was not liberal enough, but we did agree for about 3 seconds.) Also, I enjoy telling jokes to Uncle Cowboy, especially when they are risque or otherwise run counter to how he sees me. And then there was the time we talked shoes.

About the shoes: White's are very expensive, but apparently also very durable, comfortable boots. Well, comfortable after a while. Uncle Cowboy told me that he'd wanted a pair of White's for a long time, but for years was too poor, and then too cheap, to shell out for them. Finally he got a pair, and was excited to get his feet into these legendarily comfy boots. But they weren't comfortable. In fact, Uncle Cowboy found wearing the boots was excruciating. And after he'd paid so much for them! He went back to the merchant to complain and get his money back. When he got to the boot shop and told the guy his tale of woe, the salesman laughed. He told Uncle Cowboy, "You got the White's Bite!" A very confused Uncle Cowboy was then told that OF COURSE the shoes hurt. He hadn't yet followed the process to make the boots fit to him. The salesman told him to fill a tub with water and, wearing the boots, step into it. Get the boots good and wet. Now get out of the tub and keep the boots on. Until they dry. Sleep in them if you have to. (this is the part that cracked me up, thinking of this fireplug-shaped aging cowboy lying in bed with his damp White's sticking out from under the covers.

Uncle Cowboy was skeptical, but he tried it. (The store wouldn't take the boots back, so he didn't have much choice.) It worked! The boots molded to his feet, and suddenly became super comfortable to wear. It sounds so good it almost makes me want to get a pair. Almost. What does this have to do with Ada and her teeth? Nothing, really. This has just been on my mind lately, so I thought I'd share it with you. What, you'd rather I posted four paragraphs on the toothmarks on my breast? Never mind, forget I asked.