On the heels of the cold-turned-sinus-infection—right after I finished my antibiotics, actually—I caught ANOTHER COLD. Because I apparently have no immune system to speak of, at all. Today was one of those days where I had to stop and wipe or blow my nose roughly every 3.7 seconds, so as I’m sure you might imagine, it was a really productive day.
(Please kill me now.)
The best was trying to frost and decorate Monkey’s birthday cake, tonight. Two seconds of spreading frosting at a time between nose-wiping and hand-washing means you can easily finish a 9″ x 12″ sheet cake in about three hours!
(I was serious. Kill me.)
Monkey’s orders for the cake were quite specific, and everything that could go wrong did go wrong, but I think the finished product will pass muster because it meets several basic criteria, such as:
1) It is cake
2) It is slathered with frosting
3) His name is written on it in big letters.
Don’t worry, I have plans to wax sappy about my BABY turning seven tomorrow, but tonight I have hand cramps from writing with frosting (preferable to being thrown into a pit of hungry lions, but still lower on my list of things I’d choose than a bikini wax) and a sore, drippy nose. And snot and nostalgia—though appearing to go together, what with “nostalgia” and “nostrils”—really oughtn’t be paired.
Somewhat tempering my mixed maternal feelings on the eve prior to my youngest’s birthday is the reality that today I had a visit from an old friend. Well, not a FRIEND, exactly. Do you remember Chip of the small hammer? Well, he came back today to replace the shut-off valves that gave up the ghost when Otto was changing the last faucet. Alas, today’s festivities did not require usage of a hammer, small or otherwise, although I might’ve clocked him on the head with one when he handed me the bill, if I’d had one nearby.
The funny part was that I asked him if he remembered his previous visit, noting that I had only a week or two ago finally painted over the water stain on the ceiling from that incident. When I asked him, I said “it was a few months back.” When I looked up the post tonight, I realized it was a year and a half ago. That surprised me almost as much as the bill. (He did remember being here, though neither of us mentioned the hammer.)
I think I had some point to make, there, but I have no idea what it was. Plumbing fixed. Cake baked. Nose maddeningly runny. That’s all I’ve got. And now me and my box of kleenex are going to bed.