All over

Wow, been a long time and it’s not like I’ve been doing anything.

Last week, Me Too had her school play. HRH came (first one evah) so I promptly put him on video duty. But he screwed up. As in took pictures instead of video, then blamed it on the camera.

Now that excuse may fly if, like me, you are only partially literate in the country in which you live and are thus constantly effing up electronic stuff, but for him?

Eh, well, he needs a reminder every now and then that he isn’t perfect. Actually, he is constantly forgetting that, so prime example of imperfection.

That afternoon, I went to the doctor for myself because I have had a numb index finger for about a week. Doesn’t hurt really, just that I kind of prefer to have some sort of feeling in my extremities. Which is extravagant of me, I know. I was expecting the usual x-ray, rest, and stretch number, and in all fairness, did get the x-ray. Always fun when the “professionals” run out of the room and duck for cover when they turn the big guns on.

But then I got a bunch of stuff I wasn’t expecting about carpal tunnels and nerve damage and surgery.

So.

That wasn’t fun. I’ve got two weeks of meds to turn my stomach reduce inflammation, and then we’ll see, I guess.

I really should have asked the doctor to put my arm in a cast or something, though, because

No one understands me, man.

(Oh wait, go back and read that again, but sound like Marlin Brando in your head. Cause that’s how it sounds in my head, but there’s not a font for that.)

HRH is trying, sort of, in his own generally unhelpful way, to help around the house so I can rest my hand, but he hasn’t actually read any of the literature I brought back with me. So he like,put away the futons, which sounds strenuous, but it is actually the hanging up laundry and constant cooking and cleaning up and nose wiping and brushing everyone’s teeth (I have dreams where I’m a dentist, but not a creepy dentist like Jennifer Aniston in that weird movie whose name I have totally blocked out,) that are difficult and make the numbness worse. And I admit that my hand hurts occasionally, though usually it is when I have something to do I would rather avoid or when I think about some doctor who MAY be as creepy as Jennifer Aniston, DDS, cutting my hand open so it might be in my head.

But all of that jazz was completely forgotten by Monday morning because Me Too has the flu.

She was just feverish and coughy and phlegmy and gross the past few days, but today she started throwing up.

And then right on cue, Brother started being an ass. Usually on Wednesdays, I take him to Jusco where he can do one game at the game center while Sister is in dance class. Today, Sis has 103F fever. Jusco ain’t happening. No amount of crying or locking oneself in our only commode or calling one’s mother a promise-breaker is gonna change it. And, dude, I totally told you this morning that we wouldn’t be able to go, so get over it!

Meanwhile, DD pukes on our new rug (turns out it fits in the washer, though admittedly that could have been an unsuccessful experiment,) and while I’m cleaning this mess up Brother goes and eats that snack she’s left on the table.

Left so she could go puke in the living room. Cause that’s what you do? I don’t know.

Okay, this post is all over the place, so I’m gonna stop now. I’m not supposed to be driving or using heavy machinery while I’m on this medicine, perhaps I should avoid the Internet as well.

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