When It Rains It Pours

It started at the dentist office having two cavities filled. I brush, floss, use a rinse and get them cleaned every six months.  Religiously.  Yet, I seriously must have the worst teeth on the planet.  And I’d rather go to any other doctor for any other reason than to see the dentist.

Back home, I gather everyone up for a grocery run and grab my Publix reusable totes off their hook in the garage to find an enormous cave like bird’s nest situated inside of the bags.  This is not like the sweet little variety currently living in my front door arrangement, but rather a gigantically grotesque big old crow like abode.  Yuck.

While dealing with the nest, Cookie is inside and left to his own devices.  BIG mistake.  He dumps the entire container of food into Ward the Fish’s tank.  So, while Ward the Fish is frantically attempting to eat himself to death and the PCP is frantically screaming that he doesn’t want his fish to die, I am frantically trying to catch the darned elusive thing in the net to move him to a temporary home of a plastic drum bath toy.

We don’t go to the grocery.

Instead, I decide to hop in the shower since I can’t remember exactly when the last one was.  Definitely before Mother and Daddy-O left.  I get the PCP set up with a brand new FREE app on my iPhone and set Cookie up on a pile of pillows on my bed to have Mickey Mouse Clubhouse babysit for a shower so sparse I might as well have just taken a bird bath.  Wait… bad analogy.  Birds are not at the top of my list right now.

It is now only ten-thirty a.m.  Wow.

Lunch goes off without a hitch, unless you count Cookie tossing his open cup of water on the floor.  It’s just water and it’s entirely my fault for giving him a cup without a lid.  Not a big deal.  I even get the baby down for a nap without any major dramatics.  Things are looking up.

Until I check my email for the first time since eight a.m.  I have a message from iTunes bearing a receipt for the twenty-five dollars worth of game enhancing “coins” the PCP purchased for the FREE app I downloaded hours earlier.  But it gets better.  I keep scrolling through my junk mail to find a second receipt for twenty-five more.  I am sure you smart gals can do the math, but that free app I downloaded so that I could take a five minute shower now cost me FIFTY dollars.  Ten dollars a minute to barely relax in my totally hein navy blue tiled shower with the worst water pressure imaginable.  Luxuroius, I tell ya.  [ I learned two lessons from this: 1. you must turn off the iPhone after making a purchase in order to keep it from saving the password to the app store, thus enabling a five year old to charge all sorts of nonsense to your amex; 2.  all sales are final in the iTunes store.  No amount of begging, pleading or sharing my already horrendous day made a difference.]

Flash forward to three p.m. when I get to work on cleaning out Ward the Fish’s tank in the kitchen.  Scrubbing rocks, hunting down the spare filter, filling it up with clean water, etc. while Cookie happily runs trains between the den and playroom.  Unbeknownst to me, he has deposited his poopie diaper on the floor of the den and is running between the rooms with an awfully dirty heiney.  What’s one more mess to clean up?  And hey, I do get to escape the loony bin for book club night.

At this point, it’s a full fledged monsoon outside so I move my car out of the garage to let the littles ride their bikes while I throw together supper.  Literally two seconds after I tell them to start picking up toys to come inside to eat, the PCP makes some weird sort of turn while running, his feet fly right out from under him and he lands smack dab on his chin on the concrete garage floor.  Blood is EVERYWHERE.  I mean, pouring from his mouth? Teeth? Chin?  I seriously cannot tell.  Supper is sitting on the table, the PCP and I are both covered in blood and he’s screaming a scream like I’ve never before heard (and hope to never hear again.)  I grab a towel, buckle him in the car and throw Cookie in (no shoes and diaper hanging to his knees) to head for the urgent care.  Except I don’t know where one is.  I call fun friend M for the scoop and am turned away from the first place as soon as we walk in.  They were not equipped to handle such a gash “that will definitely need stitches and maybe plastic surgery.”  My stomach turns over (stitches!!!  surgery???) and we rush back to the car to head down the street to the place they recommended.  Luckily, Honey arrived home just after we left and was able to meet me at the second place within minutes, and Grandma JuJu arrived shortly thereafter to pick up the baby.  Fourteen stitches and two and a half hours later, we were back home with our remarkably brave little angel. 

It’s now nine p.m. and I have (obviously) missed the book club that was supposed to save me from the crazy.  I feed John his three-hour old supper and Honey dazzles him with pictures of the injury and stitches (that I won’t make y’all endure.) 

When it rains, it pours.  Indeed.  As soon as I redress the wound, I’m starting this new day at the point where it truly went awry yesterday – the grocery store.  Wish me luck.


| Filed under Uncategorized | Tags:

3 thoughts on “When It Rains It Pours

Comments are closed.