At Least She Has Her Health

Elder Miss has been sick since early Sunday morning: moderate fever, seemingly debilatating headache, and "stingy" sore throat.

Naturally, I kept her home from school.

Yesterday, around 1 p.m., I shut her in her room for a little nap. I had my doubts as to whether she'd actually sleep, but at least the TV was off and she was out of my hair--hopefully long enough for a shower and a cup of tea. Alas, about an hour later, I heard some tell-tale thumping and rustling coming from the general direction of her room.  It would seem my all too brief interlude was coming to an end.

Sure enough, she soon opened her door, walked fully dressed into the living room (first time she'd been in street clothes since Saturday night), and announced, "Mom, I'm very sorry but I pee'd on the floor. I felt it, and couldn't even stop it. But I think I'm feeling better!"

And so she was.

Cough Into The Uncomfortable Silence

Here's a list of topics I've recently considered writing about, but ultimately rejected for one reason or another:

1. My son's growing fascination with his foreskin
2. The swanky, faux suede chair I've ordered in burnt sienna for the living room--delivery date: Thanksgiving-ish, because it's just that damn hard to make a decent chair these days
3. Bush's incompetence
4. Some steamy fan fiction involving a three-way between myself, Jon Stewart, and Stephen Colbert
5. A 4th child, because my friend Michelle is all fertile and shit
6. Nursing school
7. The identity of the anonymous commenter who insinuated that I might be actually a very nice mother (I blush.....)

Interesting and worthy topics all, but...meh.

I'd rather sink my teeth into something I'm sure my rapt readership really wants to hear. Plus also, some comments would be nice (insert cheeky emoticom here).

Toof

Elder Miss....or, Elder Miff, as she'd be calling herthelf at the moment....finally lost her second front tooth this afternoon. It quite literally just fell out of her head and onto the pavement.

She was full of questions tonight. I fear she may be cottoning on to the folly of the tooth fairy myth. Where does the tooth fairy come from? Why does she want our teeth? What does she do with all of them? Does she ever give them back? Is there only one fairy? Or does everyone have their own? Why do I have to be asleep before she comes? What if the tooth is too heavy? How does she get in? When does she sleep? Blah, blah, blah, blah.

Sleep, my darling. Just go to sleep and believe.

From The Sublime To The Absurd

*Heard recently in the car, on the way to school:

Mom?

Yes, Boy?

Do all little boys have hearts?

Yes, Boy. All boys have hearts.

But my heart hurts a little more than other boys' hearts, right?

It's possible you have to know The Boy personally, have first hand knowledge of what a tender-hearted, sissified, little lover he is to fully appreciate the beauty of that moment.


*And, from Elder Miss, budding fashionista, while watching the Glenn Close edition of 102 Dalmations for the first time:

I don't know why they're being so mean to her. Her cloths are GORgeous!

I blame Bratz. I really do.

Business As Usual

The trip home was one of those proverbial 'doozies' you're always hearing so much about. The whole luquid bomb thing really got under my skin. Wound me up tight like a coil, and the unwinding has been somewhat unpleasant. Three migraines in as many weeks. What's up with that? My shoulder seized up. Plus a sinus thing.

Eh, bitch bitch bitch.

Believe it or not, I didn't come here to bitch.

Just wanted to reopen shop. Let you all know I'm home, safe and sound.  And maybe brag a little on my new kitchen.  All done now, and all dreamy.  Though there were some scary, uncertain moments in the middle there...