Archives from 2002-2006

Apr

17

Mucus and misunderstandings

April 17, 2006

Life with a baby is both predictable and wildly erratic. On one hand, you’ve pretty much got your Friday nights pegged for the next decade (“So, Netflix or Blockbuster tonight?” “Oh, I’m feeling adventurous–let’s do pay-per-view!”), on the other hand, the pendulum is constantly in flux, one minute you’re flitting through a metaphorical field of daisies telling everyone with ears how life is so magically delicious and you simply couldn’t be one iota happier or you would explode in a vanilla-scented hail of love, sweet wove; the next, you find yourself mired in a kind of Bataan Death March as you stagger hollow-eyed to and fro in an attempt to soothe a desperately unhappy child who can’t be put down for one single millisecond without manifesting the sort of noise you imagine plays at top volume in the echoing halls of HELL.

Yeah, so the boy is sick. A feverish, sneezy kind of gunk that I’m sure JB and I will contract all too quickly and convert into something like the Hantavirus.

I’m taking a brief break from my chief duty of ~~suffering like Job~~ ~~praying for death~~ ~~keening softly while repeatedly rocking back and forth~~ caring for the infested child to tell you this:

Yesterday JB and I colored some eggs using one of those cheapo PAAS egg-dyeing kits. The box came with some stickers, and I noticed JB frowningly applying a few, which I thought was sort of odd, as the stickers were all foofy little lambs and flowers and shit. It was only when he proudly held up his decorated egg that I realized the effect he was going for.

Now, I don’t know what you see here, but to my eyes the tableau is clearly a naughty one, and the “Happy Easter Sister” text just makes it worse by sprinkling a hint of incest over the backdoor-bunny scene. So of course I thought it was hilarious, and we laughed long and hard (heh) over it, and I took a picture, and he emailed the photo, as a joke, to his brother. Ha ha ha, right?

Except that for some unknown reason he also emailed it to his parents.

Who thought that this was our way of telling them that I was pregnant.

With a girl, apparently.

And got really excited.

*cough*

So. I hope that whatever you’re doing today, you’re neither 1) hoovering an oil freighter full of snot out of a screaming baby’s nose, or 2) explaining to your in-laws why two bunnies fucking on an Easter egg does not mean a second grandchild is on the way.