Perils of Reproduction: December 2007 Archives
So last night as I made my way homeward from the Church Thing - which actually was quite lovely; handbells and a live nativity, luminaries, food, hot chocolate, carriage rides, the dramatic doohickey I was involved in and an open house at the Parsonage - I got a phone call.
Hublet: The Boy says he feels like he needs to throw up.
Me: Has he?
Hublet: No, but he says he feels sick.
Me: Does he have a temperature?
Hublet: I dunno.
Me: I'll be home at 8:30.
So, home at 8:30. Guess what? Fever! Guess what part 2? The Boy had his customary warm milk before bed! Do you know what that means? Fever + Warm Milk in Tummy = VOMIT! Yay! And a mostly sleepless night! And me going to work this afternoon (after switching with Hublet) so I could participate in the interviewing process for some job applicants in the office! And more fever when I got home, with a nice side dish of respiratory goo, such that the Albuterol and inhaler and vaporizer and Vick's Vapo-Rub have been busted out along with the Motrin and the Dimetapp! And Hublet's main concern? That The Boy might miss the Davidson/NC State game tomorrow night. My main concern? That our neverending cycle of phlegm/drainage/sinus trauma/respiratory virii/random virus crap will end up wiping out my entire family over Christmas.
Also, may I just state for the record that every single person here at Villa BAW is truly sick of being sick. It's been a MONTH, people. One solid month of Sudafed, and Puffs, and other random over-the-counter drugs, and vomit and exhaustion, and I. Am. Done.
Oh, PS - I still haven't wrapped a single daggone present. At this point I'm thinking I'll just pile all the crap under the tree, cover it with a blanket, and pull the blanket off on Christmas morning while yelling, "Have at it, people!"
Well, today is a day off for me - not because I've decided to take a vacation day to put the guest room, or as I like to call it in December, the Staging Area, to rights, but because The Boy's body decided yesterday that copious amounts of vomit were in order.
Hopefully this is just a 24-hour thing, and he'll be able to perform at the little Christmas show tomorrow night at the elementary school. Or maybe he'll end up on America's Funniest Videos as the kid who projectile vomits on Santa Claus during the performance. Either way, I'm charging up the video camera.
Yesterday as I was fixing his lunch I was treated to this gem:
"DECK THE HALLS WITH ALL MY MONEY, FALALALALA, LALALA LA!"
"Son, what are you singing?"
"It's for our Christmas thing."
"Oh, you're doing 'Deck the Halls' as part of your performance?"
"Yep."
"I think the words are a bit different, son. It's not 'deck the halls with all my money.'"
"Yes it is!"
"No, it's 'deck the halls with boughs of holly.'"
"What's a bough of holly?"
"It's basically a branch of a kind of tree."
"I thought they were saying 'all my money.'"
"Well, that's because you'd never heard the other phrase before, so it didn't make sense."
"I like mine better."
"It's probably more appropriate nowadays, that's for sure."
