Two noisy birds have taken up residence in the tree outside our home. While craning my neck to see if I could locate their nest, I realized I was standing there with my mouth agape like Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel.

“That’s funny,” I thought, and tried to close my piehole, to no avail. “Did my mouth always hang open like this when I moved my head back?” Then I remembered: oh, yeah. Surgery.

With this big slot in my neck, and a mouth that yawns open every time my head tilts back, I resemble nothing so much as a Pez dispenser.