The Plague

The Boy has been coughing and snotting for a week, and it got worse over the weekend. Yesterday when he woke up his eyes were so gunky his brilliant eyelashes were stuck out in a beautiful surprise like my drag queen friend Portia (who has better legs than me, by the way). He mostly wanted to sit still and watch tv in the morning, which is a good indicator that something was up, so I took him to see our ped.

My view most of the day

The ped surmised that since he's gotten worse instead of better we should try a dose of antibiotics. She said it looked as though the infection was moving up into his sinuses and coming out of his eyes. Gross.  So I went to CVS to drop off his prescription. I was talking to the lady in the drive thru and she was verifying his birthday and whatnot, and she said it would be an hour to get it filled. As we were pulling away The Boy piqued up in the backseat and said "Bock bock?". That is what he says for chicken. I didn't see a chicken anywhere, and it occurred to me that my child thought we were at a fast food drive thru window. He thought we were ordering chicken nuggets at CVS. I would've said we try to buy a lot of organic, locally grown healthy food. But apparently also a lot of drive thru chicken nuggets.

We came home to have a sick day, and mostly laid around watching "Elbow" all day. The Boy made such a mess at dinner he had to go straight to the bath. I was cleaning up dinner while The Husband did bath time and I overheard "Ahh! Where did it go? Did you pinch it back in like a good boy or is it floating around somewhere?" Then, "Okay, bathtime's over."

Later he was hanging out in the living room/office area when I heard a huge crash. Like something or someone definitely got hurt crash. I didn't see The Boy anywhere but followed the sounds of his screaming. A bag filled with dishes for my mother in law had been on the buffet and somehow it had fallen off. Onto The Boy's head. He was tucked between the buffet and the wall, with a bag of heavy dishes on his head. He couldn't even lift them off, so he just sat there and screamed. He only weighs 21 pounds himself, and I bet the dishes weighed eight. Six dessert plates and a corningware dish fell on top of him. And then sat there. Can you imagine? That would be like a small house falling off a regular house onto your head. Obviously he was fine after the initial shock wore off, and we were lucky that nothing pierced through the bag and gouged him.

This morning The Husband woke up with itchy hives all over his body. He was miserable, and he couldn't stop scratching. While I was drying my hair apparently The Boy poured out the contents of a bottle of baby oil all over the hardwood floor and then proceeded to skate in it. The Husband was trying to clean it up while keeping The Boy out of the mess. When I came out with freshly blow dried hair The Husband was angry that I'd left the baby oil out within baby's reach. When I told him I didn't appreciate his tone, he responded "I'm sorry! I'm just so itchy!!"

When he left The Boy acted like he was itchy too but I largely ignored that in hopes that it would go away (it did). Instead I took him to a puppet show. I thought he deserved that after a wild 24 hours of being sick literally up to his eyeballs, a trip to the doctor, a drive thru with no chicken, plates falling on his head, an itchy dad and parents arguing this morning. He was more impressed with the inflatable Santa in the lobby than the whole puppet show, so we should've just gone to Home Depot. Or to CVS for some bock bock.

Puppet meet and greet after the show, the only part he enjoyed