Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Day 5 of 9, Late Night Edition

Fat Moother is fine. I had to wait a half hour in the parking lot and then another 20 minutes in the ER waiting room before they let me pick her up. Seems the hospital was on lockdown because someone pulled a gun in the maternity ward and then started running around with it. Eventually, he went outside, and they locked down the hospital so as to not let anyone in or out.

If I had known the reason they asked me to wait in the van was because there was a crazed gunman running around outside, I might have driven somewhere else to wait. But they didn't tell me.

They actually drove everybody to their cars, one at a time. Even though I was parked just 100 yards from the entrance, and even though they had made me sit in that very car for a half hour already, I wasn't allowed to walk back to it with Fat Moother.

Whatever.

When I got back home, I made myself some tea. If I were The JohnnyB, I would have just whined a lot until someone made me tea. But that's how it works in his house. His wife is an enabler. My wife, on the other hand, is not. This is how it went in my house:
The Mrs.: "Are you making yourself some tea?"
Me, CherkyB: "Yes. My throat is killing me."
The Mrs.: "Make HannieC some, too."
The Mrs.: "Decaffeinated."
Me, CherkyB: "Where's Dave?" [editor's note: Dave is the name of our teapot. It's a long story.]
The Mrs.: "I don't know. Just make yourself a cup of tea. Dave doesn't hold more than that anyways. Why can't you just make the tea and forget about Dave? Is that so hard? Jeeze. Make sure HannieC's is decaffeinated."
So I made myself a mug of tea and a mug for HannieC, too. I had the mug almost to my lips when I heard that wonderful sound of someone barfing. It was MaxieC upstairs. The Mrs. was with him. I set my mug down and waited for the sound to stop. Then I went upstairs to see if there was something for me to clean up.

There was, as it turns out. MaxieC had managed to explosively poop out the top of his diaper, up his back, and down his sleeve. The kind of thing a milk-fed newborn does, only he's almost three and much, much bigger. He was not at all happy about this.

Neither was I.

The Mrs. informed me that she was going to sleep on the floor next to MaxieC (who had moved to the floor due to him barfing all over his bed while I was sitting in the van being bait for a crazed gunman). This was the best news of the day. Better than the shower not leaking.

I got her an old couch mattress we have that she likes to camp out on, and I brought her her three pillows and her teddy bear. Then she requested one of the spare comforters that's in the basement. So I went to the basement and picked out the nicest one. I looked at the other two and said to myself, "Self, you ought to bring those up, too, if you don't want to be making this trip two more times during the night."

But I didn't. I'm such an optimist.

I covered up The Mrs. and headed to the kitchen to drink my tea. Just as I got to MaxieC's door, I heard a wretch. I turned around and turned on the light. MaxieC had barfed on The Mrs.'s comforter.

God hates optimists.

I schlepped back to the basement, got the remaining two comforters, took them back to The Mrs., then I drank my tea. I drank it quickly.

9 comments:

Nava said...

Sweet Jesus (well... he was one of us, after all), WHAT A DAY!

Gurgling warm salt water, so they say, is the one and only thing that helps sore throat. It's the most hideous thing, but it works like magic.
Or - you could get an Old Salt Ale...

Nava said...

That crazed gunman (was it the dearly beloved Yan Ching?) just proves my point about November.

If I were you, I would leave a nasty message on the voicemail of sssssw355444444444.

Anonymous said...

a thought that crosses my mind when I'm having glamorous days such as yourself (which isn't nearly as often as you) is;
WELCOME TO HELL
and then there's that satanic laugh in the background...

FAT MOOTHER said...

Actually I was not having all that much fun either. Poor CherkyB, pooe MaxieC, poor the Mrs. and poor FatMoother. I have to go do a load of laundry.

wife said...

You'll have to wait your turn.

Nava said...

And poor HannieC as well. With all that mess she got forgotten.

Hope you are all getting better.

Hope you have a HAPPY - and uneventful - THANKSGIVING!

FAT MOOTHER said...

Hannie C did not get forgotton - Granny MooMoo has given her 3 gifts already and just spent two hours wrapping the childrens Christmas gifts as we are going to have a mini-GrannyMooMooFatMoother- Christmas tomorrow, as I never get to see the childrens open their gifts. So they will be opening all the gifts from yours truly tomorrow after CherkyB goes out and cuts down a tree and lugs it home and argues with the Mrs. as to the exact location it should go, and then puts all the lights and decorations on it. Hoping that nobody barfs, but we all know how HannieC always wants her turn at things. A good time will be had by all Damn it.

Nava said...

Fat Moother,
Sounds like you are feeling soooooooooooo much better.
Ever considered having your own blog?

FAT MOOTHER said...

No, Don't really want my own blog as my life is boring as all Hell. I get up, eat, poop, go to work, come home, eat, poop, and go to bed. What is there to write about dispatching Poopsi Cola trucks? Not really a lot. I just like adding to CherkyB's blog. Keeps me in touch when I am thousands of miles away from the grandchildrens etc.