i like writing about books and music as much as the next gal, but gee whiz! some people are wondering about me, the chick behind the curtain! why, i haven’t whined (publicly) in a least a week – what gives!? thus, here’s some whine and cheese for good measure.
when we last left our heroine, she was sick. guess what? i’m sick again. yes, the magic of my condition is such that i pick up every. single. bug. there. is. so a big-n-hearty
fuck you! thank you to anyone who lets their kid hit school or daycare with serious stuff (and no, i don’t mean things like runny noses. if we all kept out of circulation when we had colds, no one would ever see daylight.) people like me are thrilled beyond belief that your child and mine will touch and i will be the happy recipient of your child’s generosity.
hey, while you’re at it — can you manage to not vaccinate your children, too? i really can’t wait to see how my immune system hacks it when your measles, mumps, or rubella-laden kid shares her joy with me. (and all because you read some bullshit on the internet about MMR shots causing autism. which they don’t, by the way.) see, i’ve been vaccinated, but as we’ve found from all the testing done on me, i’m not only bionic, i also don’t have very good resistance to things, even when i’m vaccinated. it’s all about my immune system. smallpox? nearly killed me when i was 6 months old, but hell — bring. it. on. just because you’re a selfish fuckwit who refuses to vaccinate.
if you can’t tell, miss crankypants is just a little bitter today. but i’ll lighten things up with things for which i am thankful.
1) the comb that i accidentally flushed down the toilet last week? you know, the one i never actually wrote about because i was too busy talking about books? well, i’m not exactly thankful for THAT, but i am thankful for the plumber who came out and told me that the very worst thing that would happen would be that i’d need to replace the toilet. see, BS painted pictures of lawns being pulled up. pipes being dredged. college funds following said comb. it was an ugly, ugly time. when i told the plumber about BS’s nightmarish scenario, he laughed and told me that i should tell BS that the tree people would be there next week to start pulling up the trees. obviously, he doesn’t realize that BS’s sense of humor had followed the comb down.
2) i’m thankful my house did not blow up kablooey last week after i had to clean the dryer out with Goo Gone, something i had to do once before. once again, a certain someone left cinnamon gum in her clothing. i knew it wasn’t Miss Scarlet with a lead pipe in the library. using my incredible, supergenius-mom powers of deduction, i know a few things: 1) BS doesn’t chew gum; 2) i hate cinnamon gum; and 3) jools has no earthly way of getting his hands on any gum. BC strikes again. i couldn’t get all the gum out with simple elbow grease, so i called in the tangy orange flammable joy that is the Goo Gone. it works, but i was afraid to use my dryer for days. i rationalized that i was doing the earth a favor by hanging my laundry up to dry. which, hopefully, balanced out the toxic, orange fumes i unleashed upon the earth.
but you know, after wearing stiff jeans one day too long, i got a bit antsy. i did what any other red-blooded, passive-aggressive person would do: i waited until BS had laundry to do. i informed him, of course, of the dryer’s status. (if he gets all blown up, then i end up a single mom. there’s no way on Dog’s Green Earth that he’s getting off that easy.) he told me he would gladly try things out once i took some dishwashing liquid and scrubbed the dryer’s inside. which i did. and the rest, as they say, is history.
which fortunately, i can add, is not our status.
3) good things come in threes. and i’m here to report that jools has decided to act like a camel, which would be really useful if i could ride him up I-95, gasoline being as expensive as it is these days. unfortunately, he has decided to be the less-than-nice part of being a camel: he has decided to spit at people when they piss him off. i’m not entirely sure where this comes from: no one in our family spits. in fact, he has heard me several times railing against the no-class bubbas who spit and who probably had the wrong end smacked at birth. but mr. man has decided to spit at his classmates, a major bozo no-no from every angle. so, to bring things full circle, i am thankful that my boy has had all of his shots!
yes, you and your child may end up sharing this lovely snotty, coughing thing that we all have around here. but you can rest assured that my son’s spit will not result in your contracting polio.
which is probably a lot more than i can say about my risk around you and yours.