Dear husband, just because Dr. House says something on TV doesn’t automatically make it true. I’m pretty sure that your parents actually ARE your parents, despite your cleft chin. (Dork.) Dear Susannah, I think the whole state heard our collective sigh of relief when that stupid tooth finally came out. Dear husband (again), I have a hard time feeling sorry for anyone who willingly eats something like a ghost pepper. (Okay, I felt a tiny bit sorry for you. For a minute.) Dear self, mental note for the next loose tooth: don’t bargain with your kids. Just buy a ton of apples and force them to chomp on them all day.