So this picture is of Campers, last weekend, riding the train with Pa to Ikea.
Someone forgot to invite the Ma for THAT little outing.
And come to find out, that store provides childcare. Hello!?!?! Did some of my so-called "friends" forget to mention that little detail to me in all their years of rambling on and on about this glorious retail establishment?? HUH??!?!?
So now I desire to shop there, and that's saying a lot.
But that's not really what this post is about. I fully intend to ramble all the way to Ikealand and back. I just included the picture of Campers to appease the fans.
So all three of the kids are sick, and have been for a while.
Hack hack hack hack hack hack hack.
There is far too much coughing in this house, and not enough ear plugs. Not enough water drinking, not enough cough covering, not enough hand washing. Oh, and certainly not enough sleeping.
Well there's never enough of that anyway.
But back to the Campers, who is our All Time Winner Of The Most Persistent And Annoying Nighttime Cough That Has Ever Been Heard By The Ears Of Man.
So tonight, after Campers had been sleep-coughing for a few hours, and it was time for ME to get some sleep, I decided to give him some medicine.
And at this moment, I would like to knock senseless the person who ever, ever thought that red-colored medicine was a good idea.
But let me back up.
So this boy, my Campers, is on the top bunk. I whisper-shouted his name a few times to wake him up; didn't work. Time to climb up and rattle his leg. Okay! That popped him straight up. Naturally, being the logical sort that I am, I assumed he was "awake." Awake enough to hold a little cup of medicine and send it down the hatch.
You'd think that his patting me all over the wrong arm--looking for the little cup--might have been a clue that he wasn't coherent enough for the task. Oh, but I just moved right past that little detail and stuck the cup in his hand.
Well, he promptly took that tablespoon of liquid and, in his sleepy-drunk-stupor, flung it all over creation. And lemmetellya, spilling one tablespoon of red syrup is like power-spraying one bucket of red paint.
Oh yi yi yi.
But once the laundry is done and the kids are all healthy--probably about six months from now--I fully intend to make my pilgrimage to Ikea. And we will put our kids in their free childcare, whereupon we can acquire some new germs, and spend the next six months getting over those.
Someone forgot to invite the Ma for THAT little outing.
And come to find out, that store provides childcare. Hello!?!?! Did some of my so-called "friends" forget to mention that little detail to me in all their years of rambling on and on about this glorious retail establishment?? HUH??!?!?
So now I desire to shop there, and that's saying a lot.
But that's not really what this post is about. I fully intend to ramble all the way to Ikealand and back. I just included the picture of Campers to appease the fans.
So all three of the kids are sick, and have been for a while.
Hack hack hack hack hack hack hack.
There is far too much coughing in this house, and not enough ear plugs. Not enough water drinking, not enough cough covering, not enough hand washing. Oh, and certainly not enough sleeping.
Well there's never enough of that anyway.
But back to the Campers, who is our All Time Winner Of The Most Persistent And Annoying Nighttime Cough That Has Ever Been Heard By The Ears Of Man.
So tonight, after Campers had been sleep-coughing for a few hours, and it was time for ME to get some sleep, I decided to give him some medicine.
And at this moment, I would like to knock senseless the person who ever, ever thought that red-colored medicine was a good idea.
But let me back up.
So this boy, my Campers, is on the top bunk. I whisper-shouted his name a few times to wake him up; didn't work. Time to climb up and rattle his leg. Okay! That popped him straight up. Naturally, being the logical sort that I am, I assumed he was "awake." Awake enough to hold a little cup of medicine and send it down the hatch.
You'd think that his patting me all over the wrong arm--looking for the little cup--might have been a clue that he wasn't coherent enough for the task. Oh, but I just moved right past that little detail and stuck the cup in his hand.
Well, he promptly took that tablespoon of liquid and, in his sleepy-drunk-stupor, flung it all over creation. And lemmetellya, spilling one tablespoon of red syrup is like power-spraying one bucket of red paint.
Oh yi yi yi.
But once the laundry is done and the kids are all healthy--probably about six months from now--I fully intend to make my pilgrimage to Ikea. And we will put our kids in their free childcare, whereupon we can acquire some new germs, and spend the next six months getting over those.
