and didn't call The Mom.
Instead the Oldest Unnamed One curled up in his bed, in the dark, wearing his Eagles jacket and wrapped in his quilt. I didn't even see him as I walked through the house, into my room where I found the Youngest Unnamed One, a.k.a Bag Boy, curled up in my bed watching HBO and hugging my pillow.
I found the dead fish on my way to get the thermometer.
The Oldest Unnamed One keeps/kept it on the counter there because "It stinks!" I told him, "Change the water more often!" He said, "It's not that!" But I didn't hear conviction in his voice.
Still the Beta made it over two years, so I suppose that's good in fish years.
However, a boy must be responsible for his pets, so I called, "Hey, come flush this fish!" I know the demise of the fish is not news to the boy. It appears to have been dead for at least a day or two and it is their bathroom.
A croaking voice from the Oldest's bedroom cried weakly, "I can't. I think I'm going to throw up!"
That's when I realized we were dealing with a plague.
One dead fish, two sick boys and you know, I'm not feeling too hot myself. I'm sure it's all in my head. Sympathy pangs, right? Because I really can't get sick. Not now. Not with the weekend two days away. I have, for once, plans.
Wonderful, indulgent, all-about-me plans.
Let's see...the boys had stomach aches over the weekend that have now blossomed into throwing up today, Tuesday. I have a stomach ache today...that puts hurling on what, FRIDAY?!
I know. It's a selfish, bad mommy who thinks of herself when her boys are worshipping the porcelain throne.
But...I'm going here:
Where I will see this:
And soak in this:
And I'll do a little of this:
And this:
And I'll sleep a lot here:
And I'll look out at the woods and feel like this:
Unless of course...I become a plague victim.
Which would probably be karma for thinking about the weekend when my boys are thinking about hurling!
2 comments:
That cabin looks awesome. Rental? Where is it?
Sounds awesome! I'm a big fan of white and big tubs! Have fun :)
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