The husband has taken 4 two-week trips to Toronto since August. If you are home doing the math at home, he is in Toronto roughly 50% of the time. And, as I predicted, the bad shit always seems to happen during that 50%…you know, ranging from the light bulbs going and the batteries in the remote dying to the bigger stuff, like on trip #1 when both Emily and I had the stomach flu (barf) and on trip #2 when our dog almost died and on trip #3 when I had the cold/flu/sinus infection plague and now trip #4 when Josh has a possible little something you may have heard of.
It rhymes with shmine shmu.
But, the jury is still out, but we are treating him with tylenol meltaways to keep the fever at bay and treating the rest of the symptoms with tamiflu…but, in capsule form, because there’s no liquid to be found anywhere in the entire ATL. so, we are emptying the 75mg capsules into juice and attempting to only give him 45mg because, you guys, my 7-year-old son weighs less then 40 pounds. (Yes I feed him) (Mom)
but, anyway, we are working through the list this week, and well, talking about sickness was not just to complain to you, it actually ties into today’s story. Shut up, IT DOES, I swear. You see, the husband walked through the door and I threw the children into his capable and well-rested-from-the-past-two-weeks and said, “I’m going to sleep for 24 hours, dudes, you are on your own” and shut off the light and found Apollo 13 on TV and snuggled into my Target quilt to drool over my lover Ed Harris as he successfully lands those boys safely.
And when I woke up, um, like 6 hours later…I was sure I was still sleeping because there was a movie on that at first I was all, Hey, Star Wars, but then I realized that the dude who looked like Chewbacca was not actually Chewbacca, but WAS, in fact, Robert Downey Jr.
I tell the truth you all. And, oh, it gets worse better…because in this movie where RDJr is covered head-to-toe in hair, a Nicole Kidman-as-Diane Arbus falls in the love with him. oh yes, she does. and there’s icky shaving involved. SHAVING. I don’t get it. Was this supposed to be dare-I-say SEXY?
But, in true Diane Arbus fashion, it was creepy but yet…I could not look away. Like, you know, that picture of the twins.
this picture…and THIS ONE…
scare me almost as much as clowns. Yes, it’s true. I am scared of creepy twins.
(Come play with us, Ali. Come play with us. FOREVER. AND EVER. AND EVER.)
and now this movie…is probably the scariest one I’ve seen since The Ring. (Yes, The Ring scared the ever-loving-shit out of me) (7 days)
and while we are talking about bizarre things that scare me…I will let you in on a little secret. I am scared of him. I swear. I won’t even see the movie.
Isabella has a copy of this book on the back of the toilet in the bathroom. For some bizarre reason, it’s her go-to book when she’s in the john. And every time I walk into that same bathroom, I have to flip the book over, because, I don’t know, just looking at his face gives me complete heebie-jeebies. *SHUDDER* So, yes, I flip the book, which is funny, because the entire time I was reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (which I could not recommend enough. oh my damn, it’s good!) every time I walked into my bathroom, it was always flipped upside-down. So, while I’m afraid of creepy twins and men dressed up as Chewbacca and Quasimodo…at least one of my children is afraid of this…
They are such wimps.