Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Something Wicked This Way Comes...

Okay, I've been waiting a week to use that title. It kept floating through my mind as I lay in bed unable to pick my head up off the pillow. It started last Monday...funny I didn't even mention in my blog that day how My Baby's Daddy had come home sick from work with a stomach virus. He very rarely gets sick, which is a good thing because he is not a good patient, and I am surely not a good nurse. Most of the time I am pretty unsympathetic because he can be quite a whiny hiney when he's sick and it gets on my nerves. For whatever reason, this time I went to the store and bought the requisite saltines and gatorade, and even a little chicken soup for good measure. The President & I cooked the soup when Daddy said he was feeling like eating. So very proud of his culinary skills, The President went to tell Dad his dinner was ready. But Daddy was nowhere to be found.

Conversation between me & The President:

P: Where's Dad?
Me: Mmmmmm, he's not feeling well and he's in the bathroom being sick right now.
P: Oh, yeah...he white puked in the garbage earlier. [Very matter of fact]. You know how when Fat Baby was little, he used to white puke? Well, that's what Dad did in the garbage can.

I just love their unique descriptive abilities at this age. Anyway, following morning at 5-ish the old girl jumped on me, too. Thought I was D Y I N G! By this time, My Baby's Daddy was feeling much better and rallied the troops for me so I could sleep it off. This week-end Fat Baby had it. Nothing will break your heart like a sick baby.

Now, a disclaimer: Please don't stop reading my blog because I write about bodily fluids and passing gas on my husband...there is so much more to me than this!!!

Finally, here's a little chuckle before I go. Last night, I'm giving the boys a bath together. The President brings in the squirt bottles of bathtub paint. Great fun, but you can't really get anybody to be clean and stay clean...You have to know that the Pres was born a 40 year old man. He has a huge vocabulary, and just really has a very grown up mentality. Anyway, I've always spoken to him like an adult, so I said, "Pres, words cannot express how much I appreciate you bringing these paints in here with Fat Baby." (Yes, he understands sarcasm). His reply, "Words cannot express---what in the hell, I mean what in the world does that mean?!?!?"

I just had to walk out of the room...it really caught me off guard! Too funny!


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