Today is my first day back in the office after a busy and somewhat stressful weekend. I can always gauge how stressful my weekend was by the feeling I get when I walk through the office door. Most Mondays are the “ewwww, work” variety – that means it was a pretty normal weekend – some fun, some relaxing, with a touch of sibling annoyance and husband pain mixed in. but after weekend like this one, I walk through the office door and my blood pressure actually goes down. Because even though I have to work and even though I have to deal with a pain in the ass coworker and even though I have my fat ass crammed into pantyhose, by God, I will not hear, “He’s touching my stuff!”, “I just wanna see it!”, “Stop it!”, “You’re mean!”, “I’m telling!”, “Go AWAY!”, or “STOP TOUCHING ME!!!!!!” SO, yay, work!
Plus, when I got in this morning, I saw a package on the front counter for me and who doesn’t like a surprise mystery package, assuming it’s not filed with dog shit and snakes? And it was most certainly not filled with dog shit and snakes, but with two cool cds and some delicious-smelling chocolate soap. YAY!! But I have to say:
You rock. Especially the part where you put the note in telling me not to eat the soap. Because I read it at the last minute and was very near shoving it all into my big, gaping piehole. Love and kisses,
Friday I worked from home and we had an extra child in the house – our nephew, Dil (great nephew actually, but I didn’t say that since it makes me sound as old as dirt, when in actuality, though I am as old as dirt, it’s mr b who is three days older than turpentine and can say he has a great nephew. Also – did anyone get the turpentine reference? If so, I will love you forever)
Anyway, having an extra child in the house can be both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it keeps the kids busy having someone else to play with. A curse because – hello – it’s an extra kid in the house. The girl was thrilled to have him there, since they are close in age and she adores him. The boy, I figured would ignore the presence of another rugrat and play wii or something. But no, even though he won’t play with his sister and probably wouldn’t play with Dil if were actually his brother, he thought it was great fun playing with him on Friday, much to the dismay of the girl, who wanted Dil to herself. I suspect this added to the boy’s enjoyment. At one point, they were playing light sabers and she was pissed off at being left out and she kept telling them “it’s time for another game now”. When that didn’t work, she came over tot where I was working asked me for a pencil. I gave it to her and went on working. Then she asked for some paper. Again, I gave it to her and went back to working. Then she asked if I could write something for her. I was distracted since I was working, but I took the paper and pencil and asked her what she needed me to write. The answer? “This game is over. Mom said.”
Saturday and Easter were pretty uneventful, but busy. There was shopping and cooking and ironing and cleaning and visiting and chocolate and wine. And I made this salad, which you should go home and make right now because it is fantastic.
Then yesterday, I had to work from home again, since school and daycare were closed. And as with Friday, there was lots of “He’s touching my stuff!”, “I just wanna see it!”, “Stop it!”, “You’re mean!”, “I’m telling!”, “Go AWAY!”, or “STOP TOUCHING ME!!!!!!” So, by the time the girl started screaming bloody murder, I pretty much was all boy who cried wolf-ed out and I responded with a frustrated, “What?!? What is it now?” And then I saw her clutching her face and staggering around the room. Turns out she had sprayed perfume in her face and eyes. I grabbed her and threw her I the tub and started spraying and rinsing her eyes as best as I could, with he fighting and kicking and screaming. And you know how hard it is to open your eyes when they are burning, so I’m not sure how effective it was. I also tried to wash the perfume off her face since she reeked. I had her in the tub, rinsing her eyes for about 15 minutes, then got her out and called the doctor. They said she would probably be fine, but to call poison control. They also thought she would be fine, but damn did she give me scare. Herself too. The poor thing was in pain and crying and she couldn’t open her eyes for a good while. And her face got red and blotchy from the perfume, with her left eye, especially swelled up and looked like a red plum. Good times.
I intend to heal myself psychologically by gnawing the head off a chocolate bunny and celebrating my few hours of quiet and data management.