@TheCaffeinatrix and Moi in Central Park, as it should be
Last week I had to pleasure of escaping the routine of my life and wreak some beautiful havoc with friends new and old. Yes folks, the AimingLow crew blasted through Boston and New York and the recaps are gathered over yonder.
Anyhow, on the last day I was lollygagging around my hotel room -- because I'm really good at lollygagging, so much so that I should go pro -- and my phone rang. Now that in itself is not astounding: I own a phone and on occasion it rings. I usually ignore it because you know: phone = talking with people = things motherbumper does not like to do. But this time I noticed it was my child's school.
Before I could finish applying a proper panic face, it went to voice mail.
As helplessness set in, I dialled 98 to hear my child's fate.
Hello G's mom, we know you are away but we thought we would call to tell you your daughter is fine but... she has pink eye.Way to give me a heart attack school admin (but joking aside: I do appreciate their attention to detail, they are good people at that place).
So after I phoned home to scream "BURN THE SHEETS, DON HAZMAT SUITS, BUUUUURN THE TOWELS! DAMMIT!" I braced myself for yuckiness. We've battled pink eye in these parts before and it ain't pretty.
Now I don't know about you but pink eye makes it sound so cute. But it's about as cute as string cheese served over snot.
So short of long: my daughter went from dressing as Snow White for Hallowe'en to doing a frighteningly eerie Jack LaMotta a la DeNiro from Raging Bull.
Obviously Hallowe'en was also a bust which meant: NO BAG OF CANDY FOR MOMMA TO STEAL FROM. Don't panic though, I rectified that ticktyboo. Sale candy tastes even sweeter.
So the daughter was bummed to miss the trick or treating and not one to keep quiet, she demonstrated her sadness in one of the most moving self portraits we've seen in these here parts:
Portrait of an Young Artist with Pink Eye
She is all healed now which is a great relief to all. None of us want to do those drops ever again (*knock wood*). We have the bruises and partial deafness to prove it.
ANYHOW - lots of mail waiting for me when I got back and the coolest thing in the pile by far is this t-shirt:
The Mominatrix book will be out in the new year so I can finally get that all important guide to sex. About damn time and maybe it will explain a few things to me, like where the heck did that kid come from and why so sticky sex, I mean, is it that hard to be mess free? Seriously though, I love it when friends do amazing things like publish books or go to the grocery store with their pants on. I like to celebrate many accomplishments in life so three cheers for Madame Mominatrix, Kristen Chase.
Anyhow, the apartment is a disaster and I've got a ton of reading to catch up on so I've really got to get back to ignoring the dust bunnies because if I don't do it, who will?