Well, I didn’t PLAN for the blog CEO to not show up at corporate for the majority of the week, where she would sit in her hard-backed chair and furiously beat on the Apple keyboard until a post emerged, but sometimes life happens.
Specifically, sometimes things like THIS happen:
Or… more specifically… right before the puke comes.
Thing 2 has forty-six acres of hardwood floor in his bedroom, and he managed to throw up on the area rug, with nary a single drop on that polished wood floor.
And then, apparently, the boy was feeling left out of all the hoopla, because on Monday evening, THIS happened:
And then they begged for Sprite and Ramen noodles, because they love the comfort food of the rich and famous.
By last night, when both boys were finally recovered, I told Hubs, “Please! Take me for a drive! I’ll go anywhere! I just need out of the house and away from ALL THE BARFING! I have not left my house since Easter Sunday, and THIS. IS. WEDNESDAY!!!”
So we took the boys to the Dairy Queen for French fries, because we’re not afraid to move straight from the Stomach Bug of Death into some greasy snack items. It’s exactly how John Wayne would’ve handled it.
Thankfully, we’re all on Spring Break at our house, so the boys missed zero-point-zero days of school. I didn’t have to call for a sub to cover my PE classes, so I could stay at home with them and the giant jug of Clorox, either. And then, on the other hand, WE’RE ON SPRING BREAK HERE, AND BOOM! That sound you heard was our entire week’s plans collapsing to the ground like a mound of dynamite going off beneath a rock wall. We had planned to escape town early this week with some good friends of ours, but it’s hard to take barf on the road.
This morning, Mam (who is also on Spring Break from her preschool classroom) showed up at our house to scrub things down.
The Stomach Bug Virus didn’t stand a chance of lingering around our faucets and sinks, when Mam comes over to help clean.
So… you know… my house pretty much sparkles and shines now, and here it is, already Thursday, and our Spring Break is basically history.
Anyway, BEFORE the Battle of the Vomit began, we had our Easter weekend.
Hubs’ mama opted to do her Easter dinner, of ham and homemade dinner rolls that were so good, surely Jesus Himself had blessed them, on Saturday, because everyone’s schedule fit that day. We drove out to Small Mountain Town, where the snow is still deep.
Only in our area do children hunt for their Easter eggs dressed like this:
The girls, Cousin R and Cousin A, were excited to be on the EGG HIDING side of the hunt this year. They’ve crossed the line into the territory where the grownups reside, but they don’t have the responsibility of electrical bills, insurance premiums or replacing dead washing machines. Those two sweet girls hid all of the eggs for Thing 2, out in the deep drifts, and then they both marched him all over the place, running right alongside of him, while he filled his green Easter bucket.
The big boys only ventured outside to move the cars around in the driveway, because apparently fifteen is the new adult, who is too grown up to hunt for eggs in the snow.
Did someone say, BACK THE CAR UP? Did someone say, CAN YOU MOVE THE CAR IN THE DRIVEWAY? The boy and Cousin B, with their driver’s permits, are the people you need to see! They will both cheerfully back 16,000 cars out of the driveway, if it means they get another chance to sit behind the steering wheel in a vehicle. They are driveway-backing PROFESSIONALS, y’all.
Yes. Yes, he could.
“Um… The bad guys killed Jesus. They killed him dead on a cross. And God said He could be risen and not dead, so he’s alive now. I’m kinda getting sick of everyone always wanting to kill Jesus, Mom.”
There were Easter baskets at our house, too, but the boy didn’t get up early enough to have his picture taken while he was munching chocolate. That’s how the fifteen-year-old crowd rolls.
And the answer is a big, fat YES.
Yes, Thing 2 had some words to say about wearing a PINK shirt… as well as some words to say about wearing BUTTONS and also JEANS. Thing 2 is only happy when he’s dressed like he’s headed to the gym for his workout. Sadly, his mama wouldn’t let him wear black Adidas gym shorts and a Denver Bronco jersey to church on Easter morning, but look! Look how cute they both turned out:
We had Easter dinner on Sunday with Mam and Pa. Hubs smoked a brisket all the livelong night, while Mam made potatoes and salad and bread. I would put pictures of the cousins on my side of the family on the blog tonight, but OH! THAT’S RIGHT! Sister and her family skipped town to go to the beach. Where it didn’t snow. Where they’re sitting in the sun, sipping drinks with umbrellas in them and taking pictures of sunsets over the ocean, and totally NOT snapping shots of their teenage kid puking.
In other words, Sister is the classy one in the family.
Then, after we had stuffed ourselves silly with dinner at Mam and Pa’s house, we came home…
… where the boys went face-to-face with the Stomach Plague. Happy Easter to us. Pass that jug of Clorox bleach, please.
But… we’re happy and healthy now, y’all, and after Mam’s visit today, not a single germ has been left alive in this house. Also, after today, I kind of want my family to live in a motel room for a while, so that nobody makes a mess here. I just want to sit in Clean House Glory for thirty entire minutes before the boys behave like slobs again.
Y’all have a merry weekend. I’ll try not to be jealous as y’all roll in from the beaches and the sand dunes and all the spring-breaking-in-places-other-than-right-by-your-toilet.