twisting turning pain
time to invest in some BRAT
never trust the bus
The Top Five Reasons Why I Had Diarrhea Yesterday
5. I had to get all bitchy with the school bus people. Why does the bus never show up? The wee one shows up. I stand there with him. It’s dark and early and he’s all chattery about how fun the bus will be. But the bus never arrives. Maybe it’s invisible. Maybe it’s cloaked in moonbeams. I don’t know. What I do know is that IT DOESN’T SHOW UP AND NO ONE IS HELPING ME FIGURE OUT WHY.
4. Vitamin water and pasta for lunch. I knew that was a bad idea.
3. Finding out that my babysitter didn’t add us to her fall schedule. She can squeeze us in for some weird times, but those times really won’t work, because I have to pick the wee one up from school everyday. Oh that bus is a pain in my ass.
2. The wee one’s teacher called me, in the middle of the day. Instantaneous fears of illness, kidnapping, and misbehavior flooded my aching belly. She just wanted to know if he was to ride the bus home. I said No, if the bus can’t find the stop in the morning, I imagine it won’t show up in the afternoon either, and the wee one will be whisked away to a land of moonbeams and invisible orange behemoths which he might love, but I would not. So no, please keep the wee one off the bus. Stupid effing bus.
1. While I managed to write 13 pages (!), the wee-er one managed to eat almost an entire treasure chest full of tiny plastic coins (!!!). This is why I need a babysitter. After following the nurses directions (when I called in a panic) to feed the wee-er one some bread to cushion the plastic coins, the wee-er one yarfed up the bread. As I frantically searched for paper towels, the DOG ATE THE YARF and so who knows if any coins came up. I took the wee-er to the doc – amidst rush hour traffic – to be told she most likely puked because she choked on the bread and that plastic is invisible to x-rays (make a note for future superhero ideas). Then, after visiting the doctor, I had to pull off the highway and find the closest bathroom to be sick in, because I was coming down off the adrenalin from "oh my god, I’m killing my baby by trying to write during her waking hours." Sorry, fancy neighborhood’s library bathroom.
I blame the school bus for everything. No bus = no babysitter. No babysitter = wee-er one gorging on plastic. So by the transitive property of PAIN IN MY ASS, No bus = $100 spent at the doctor having a pissed off belly palpated.
The good news? Someone in this family finally has money coming out the wazoo. She can break wind AND a five, if you’re interested.
And that’s why I’m eating toast and applesauce today.