Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Dear The Mister,

You have been working all day and probably reading this during your client dinner tonight. Since I might be DEAD by the time you come home, I thought I might just jot down a few notes on how awesome my day is going right now, at 10:00am.

So, I'm still a little delirious from staying up the last 3 nights taking care of sick boys. Since you were taking care of them, too, I am imagine you are pretty exhausted, too. How's that coffee? Yeah. I don't drink coffee. But I do drink diet coke, and since I have to leave the house in a few minutes I might as well buy 235 gallons while I am out.

Why am I going out? Remember when we walked in on Nicholas last night with his feet stuck in the crib rails and choking on his own puke? And remember how we were all "AAAAAAHHHHHH HE'S DYING!! WHAT DO WE DO!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!" and then we cleaned him off and put him in the tub and he was all, "Hey! A bath! My favorite! . . .What's wrong with you two?" And so you were so freaked out our kid almost went down like Jimi Hendrix you had to do something so you went and put his sheets in the washing machine but didn't remove any of the *ahem* offending material? Yeah. Let's just say I need to go to Target to pick up some laundry supplement with digestive enzymes to do the job Nicholas didn't get a chance to finish. Tomato skins in my washing machine, the Mister. That's all I have to say.

So Mikey got up at around 9:00am and {BONUS} didn't pee in our bed. I was so excited I had one less load of laundry to do, I decided to make everyone breakfast, including myself! I had just finished my 3rd bite when Nicholas decided to slip out of his high-chair straps and attempt to bungee jump to freedom. Naturally, I put down my bagel after only a moment of hesitation and decided while I was letting him kick me in protest, I might as well let him kick me in protest while I put on his clothes for the day. It was awesome. Since he is sick, his kicks are totally weak. So are his lungs. I barely felt or heard anything.

I have to say I was pretty bummed to come back and discover that the dogs ATE MY BREAKFAST. Oh yes, they did. And they had the nerve to lick their chops and burp delicately. I decided not making purses out of their ears should be enough to pay forward the pharmacy-tech's kindness from yesterday.

Mikey is perfecting his football throwing against various walls in the house. This is after he decided to fill his mouth with water, stick all his fingers in his mouth, and with water pouring down his shirt and onto the floor proclaim, "I'm brushing my teeth in a new way!" What the?!

I'm hot, my hair is a mess, and I think I broke my foot.

Well, I better go. Nicholas insists on playing with my old, rusty Buenos Aires license plate and I don't have the energy to take him to get a tetanus shot if he eats it. I'll update you on my day as it continues to deteriorate progess.

Can't wait until you get home. Drive safe. :)

The Mrs.