You know those times when it would be funny if it just wasn’t? Yeah. This is one of those times.
Saturday was to have been a festive, happy day. Felix had a birthday party to attend (chauffeured by moi) and Will was going to take Stella to buy “Fifi” the new fish, preferably in a shade of yellow. Crispi was due in that afternoon, and the day would be capped off with a Xmas parade. Swell, no?
This first couple of parts went swimmingly. Felix went to his party and lunched on grapes and a cupcake. Stella acquired Fifi, who may just be the first trans fish in the USA. Despite the definite words indicating that Fifi is a MALE betta (and we know damn well Stella can read that), Stella shouted down anyone within a 5 block radius that Fifi was most definitely a girl, and wasn’t SHE beautiful? Sorry, Fifi. Maybe we should have named you Caitlyn.
As the afternoon progressed and the temperature rose, we all just sort of decided it was too blasted hot to go to a parade. Even Stella wasn’t into it, demanding to go to a restaurant instead. Sure. Whatever. We went to eat and then all retired to our neutral corners for the evening. Will and I had both sets of grandparents volunteering to watch kiddos Sunday – a huge luxury. We were thinking about going to the French Quarter to see the decorations and maybe come home and have a dinner date. I was excited. Until about 7:30 when Felix woke up screaming and puking.
I won’t go into gory details (you’re welcome) but the puking was short-lived. The back door trots not so much. It was a long, long night. Sunday plans were scrapped. He seemed fine by morning – just low energy and lower appetite. I honestly figured he had eaten something bad at the party. (See the awesome job I’m doing at foreshadowing?)
We all survived Monday. I had a working lunch thing. I also have loads of end-of-year loose ends I’m trying to tie off. Will has some sort of shoulder thing going on. He went back to the doctor and was referred to ortho…..in a month. He’s not happy about that, understandably. He’s projecting this well.
After missing her scheduled Sunday visit with her Crispi, Stella was delighted when Crispi surprised her at home after school with a huge black olive and pepperoni pizza. All was right with the world again. Until about 7:00. Felix was asleep and Stella came out indicating that she felt “queasick.” Yeah. I just managed to grab a bowl to catch some really disgusting stuff. I don’t want to see a black olive pizza again for a long, long while. And dammit: it was/is viral.
I’m trying to keep perspective. It’s a quick and mild bug. That’s good. In another day she’ll be back to normal. Oui Oui and Crispi were able to tag in/out such that I only missed the first 3 hours of work today and one meeting.
But come ON. ENOUGH. I’m ready for Xmas. I’m ready to be merry. We’ve now missed a parade, a rural life Xmas thing, French Quarter decorations, and honestly I’m on the fence about this light display/carnival thing across the river we’re supposed to do tomorrow night.
I started to write a rendition of the twelve days of Xmas, but other than “12 loads of laundry,” “2 puking kids,” and “1 aching shoulder,” I got nothing. Maybe 5 boxes of wine?