Dear Elli,
I'm having an irritating week. One of those weeks that just irritates the living shit out of me. It's not the end of the world. I'll get over it. But I thought I'd share this particular week in the life of your mother, mostly because I think it's funny.
Monday was okay. I spent a significant amount of my time preparing for meetings in Cleveland on Tuesday, and I was totally ready to rock those meetings.
So you promptly woke up with a stomach virus Tuesday morning. After an hour of you sitting on the bathroom floor waiting to vomit, I called the game. Done. Over. Time to notify the world that our day is totally jacked up!
I proceeded to cancel each and every one of my meetings, texted my boss, called our sitter to tell her you wouldn't be on the afternoon school bus, called the school, emailed the soccer coach, and sent a group email to everyone at the office to tell them I'd be working from home. You see, the very act of disrupting our schedule triggers at least an hour of communication to all the people who need to know that we're not going to be where we're supposed to be.
Our dog is totally neurotic. Roscoe has decided this week, after nearly twelve years of life on this planet, that dry dog food is suddenly no longer edible. He refuses to eat unless we bribe him with some sort of human food mixed with his dog food. But the same human food won't work twice, because he apparently needs variety now. This week, I've tried bologna, chicken broth, steak, and applesauce. I'm running out of ideas.
And if I try to just wait him out because he'll eat his dog food when he gets hungry enough, right? Well, then he wakes me up at 3AM dry heaving and acting like a psycho because he's starving. Then he goes outside and eats grass, comes inside, and promptly pukes on the carpet. That happened twice this week.
Your father went to the store tonight and bought him canned wet food. He ate a whole can just like a normal dog who hasn't been a complete psycho all week. He's laying next to me now, and he has farted at least 67 times since I started writing this. It's like one singular 20-minute-long dog fart. I'm considering leaving town right now in my flannel pajamas with no bra. Just to escape the foul stench in our living room. Why the hell not? People go to Walmart like this all the time.
And now I have a zit on my face. It's just to the left of my right eyebrow. I'm 34 freaking years old. Why do I have a zit? This is profoundly ridiculous. Perhaps I should start using Clearisil again. I'll buy some Teen Spirit and a Swatch watch while I'm at it.
You had an awards ceremony at school tonight. So we went to the ceremony for you to receive a participation award. A freaking participation award! You know how much I love participation awards. In case you forgot, I actually think they're stupid and I hate them. So that was fun.
Did I mention the participation awards ceremony began at 4:30PM? Who are these people who can be somewhere at 4:30PM on a Wednesday? Am I the only person who has a regular freaking job that ends at 5:00PM? Is the entire population of our school district unemployed? Perhaps I should stop working so I can be available to attend all of the afternoon school engagements that are funded by people who work...
I've leaving on a totally freaking awesome dream come true bucket list trip to California with my best friend in three weeks. I'm shooting for at least one more bikini season before I fall off the rails into middle agedness. I've been trying to cut a few pounds of fat for weeks to pull it off. And I haven't lost a single ounce. I'm starting to think the scale is broken. It's not broken. First world problems, I know. And I'll likely be taking my first world problems to the store this weekend for a one-piece bathing garment. Dammit.
Well, there you have it. There's a running list of our irritating misfortunes so far this week. But guess what? We're pretty freaking lucky that our misfortunes consist of a minor stomach bug, a farting dog, a zit, a participation award, and a few pounds of stubborn fat. Pretty lucky, indeed.
I love you.
Mom
Commentaires