So Huggy Bear had a little virus.
Then Chris got it. However, Chris convinced himself he had typhoid fever or similar and laid in bed for the better part of two afternoons asking me if he had a fever.
Imagine his surprise when his physician confirmed my diagnosis of viral infection and to gargle with some salt water and go the hell back to work already!
I know that sounds mean. And I am undeniably mean. However, when he’s home, stuff gets jacked up and all off track.
And seeing as how I’m currently suffering from same said viral shit that took everyone else in this house down for the better part of two days. . .yet somehow won’t be afforded the luxury of lying in bed for an afternoon. . .or even an hour. . .I desperately need to keep things on track.
I’m not complaining about all the Kleenex and snot rags I keep finding everywhere or the 12 extra water glasses Chris seems to use in the course of an afternoon. I’m not even upset he left his box of stupid Sudafed on the desk, where the cat knocked it onto the floor and I caught Mac playing with them last night (Although it did kinda’ piss me off. Sheesh, we have a designated child proof place for medicine.)
Here’s THE example of off track: Yesterday Chris walked in the door at 12:18. Mac should have taken a nap at 12:30. However, there was no way he was going to sleep with Chris having just arrived home. So instead, Chris carted him around while he heated up lunch and then rolled around on the floor with him for a bit. The result was my not getting Mac to sleep until nearly 2. Which of course meant he slept until shortly after 5 and well. . .you effing guessed it. . .I couldn’t get him to bed until after 11.
And you’ll notice I mention, I couldn’t get Mac to go to sleep. That’s right. Daddy has decided he can no longer get Mac to go to sleep. Whether Daddy has a virus or not, he claims he can no longer get the kid to sleep. So every day. . .every night. . .every nap. . .every wake up in the middle of the night screaming. . .That’s all on me.
And for some reason I’m not to find this the least bit frustrating. Not even when I’m sick and exhausted and it’s 10 at night and Chris is still whining about “how sick he really is and absolutely needed to come home and perhaps he should have gone someone else? Where would I like him to go?” Oh how I’d love to fill in the blank on that one.
And he wants more children?
I think we have all the immaturity one house can handle right now thank you very much.