I thought I was being SO clever in the early part of the
week by taking it easy a few days. I
knew I was sick, or getting there, so I’m all into nipping it in the bud by proactively
resting up. Should work, right? Right.
However, four days later I am wearing a big wool sweater and
I still want to crawl under the covers, and not even to sleep but just to hang
out there in a fugue, so it occurs to me that this is not the behavior of a
healthy individual. Of course, healthy
and this blog were always debatable to begin with.
We’ve just entered the “rainy season”. Which today means blazing sunlight alternating
with heavy downpours, frigid temperatures and the wind going a hundred miles an
hour. The better to send palm leaves
crashing down on you. Couple that with lots
of indoor toddler activities – walking into my son’s preschool alone feels akin
to swimming in a ripe Petri dish – and I guess it’s no wonder the stupid sore
throats and headaches won’t go away.
But I’m not bitter. Winter, you foul bitch.
Honestly, I’m very impressed with those who can keep
blogging even where they’re sick. Especially
this guy. He’s expecting the plague and he’s still a
All right, now for something lighter.
Me, calling down the stairs: “What’s up, honey?”
*whimper whimper whimper*
“Chance?” Me, coming
downstairs and peering into the living room to see…
a Thomas the Train stuck to my son’s head. The little wheels a-turning, my son looking alarmed
as he supports the weight of the train, Thomas smiling his idiot grin per
usual. (Doubtless, my son was trying to
deduce Thomas’ intent with this sudden head attack.)
But I am now a master of such unexpected events. Step one, turn
off the train. Step two, carefully
unwind (or cut) hair from wheels.
And most importantly, step three, “If it moves don’t put it
in your hair, OK kiddo?”
I think he got it.
Oy. I didn’t think of
this one when I decided to grow out his hair.