The Plague or, if you are on a first name basis like we are, the Black Lung, remains a constant presence in our lives. Despite my best intentions.
But since I constantly seem to be talking about awful things, sickness and all of the things that my husband does wrong, I thought I would try something (slightly) different.
We had a busy day today.
It started out with a lovely Canadian Tradition of ‘Waffles and Puppies’, which is where we make waffles on Sunday morning and eat puppies. Puppies are whatever your imagination would like them to be.
Actually, no. This is what my Mother-In-Law thought we were doing this morning. Fran, Canadians do not eat Puppies. Please disregard whatever rumours you have heard regarding your Northern neighbours.
We actually went to eat waffles and meet a puppy. My cousin-sister got a puppy yesterday and likes to feed people. And it was Easter.
Yay puppies and yay waffles!!
And then we went home, V took a nap, I cooked, M got V ready and we headed over to his parents house for Easter dinner.
V has been out of sorts. I am trying so hard not to write about the Black Lung, but I can’t help it. I’ll just write a little, ok?
Ok, so super sinus infection, antibiotics and diarrhea. Thanks antibiotics for bringing that to the party!! And so diarrhea makes diaper rash (blistering). Which makes small children say this when brought into the vicinity of a changing table.
“Nooooooooo!! Nononononononononooooooooo No! No! No! Nooo!!!!!” etc etc
Oh, and it makes them cranky.
*whew* Sorry. Anyways.
So on the way home, V is happily chatting to himself in the back. M and I are exhausted. The dog is sleeping in M’s dirty clothes in the back seat. And suddenly?Well, suddenly we hear crunching noises coming from the back seat. And this was funny because V only had a bottle back there. No snackies. But he was clearly eating something.
Where was he getting it? Good question. I thought it might be ‘car seat food’, which might actually be the grossest of the food categories.
After a minute or more of crunching, M finally noticed he was getting it from the door handle. I guess he had put some there during a previous snack perhaps for just such an occasion? Total illicit snack. Thankfully it was cereal and not something like a piece of banana or cheese.
M laughed when we figured it out. “That’s like something you’d do, Jame”. And I am not sure if he meant eat the car seat snacks or store them for later. Either of which is ridiculous. Clearly I would store snacks in a baggie. Or a labeled snack container. Yes. I am anal.
He happily munched away for another few minutes. We did nothing to stop him. There really was nothing to stop! It made us both laugh though.
And now? V is sleeping, M is ps3-ing, I am blogging and trying to hold off the sleepy-time dust that is being shaken on my head. Sick people equals exhaustion. Sick people plus holiday dinner? Totally screwed.