Crabby Fights, Burny Eye, and Sneaky Kid.
December 12th, 2001 by Kevin
Well, I’m still crabby. Thought you might be interested.D. is still very pissy as well. Round two of the Great Pissy Screaming Match took place last night after the tremendously scary and cool Buffy episode. The fight was fairly short, so I’ll share.
Trance: (calmly eating a late dinner on the couch) I just want to warn you, my mom is going to be pissy with you about this whole PIttsburgh-for-the-holidays thing.D: (leaps from couch) Well, you know WHAT? Just FORGET it!! We won’t even GO if it’s going to be such a big DEAL! I KNEW your mom was going to be RIDICULOUS about this!! FORGET IT! (plops back onto couch, folds arms and sulks)
Trance: (calmly eats dinner) That’s silly.
D: (jumps up again - welcome to the D.-Bo sofa workout) We are NOT going if YOU’RE going to be pissed, and I’m going to ALSO have to deal with HELL from your mom!!
Trance: You’re on crack if you think we’re not going now.
D: (sulks in silence, probably thrilled to have gotten the exact response he wanted)
He’s such a little drama queen.
So I caved. I said that we should go, even though I would probably rather shave my head and spend Christmas at the airport with the Hare Krishnas.
I am such a wuss.
You know, the Hare Krishna idea is starting to sound very attractive, now that I think about it. No irritating family, no irritable fiancee, no overfed and crabby child; just love, peace and tambourines. Not to mention the pretty pink dress. I’ll have to think that one over.
I ended up getting about a third of the way through the fourth Harry Potter, played on the Internet for a bit, and went to bed at about 2. D. read for a while and went to bed at about 11. We’re turning rapidly into two crabby old people.
What happened to the days of daily sex, passion, and laughter?
I think things made a serious turn for the worse when we got engaged and became complacent, and then everything went directly down the crapper when we started talking about the holidays.
Didn’t I just say yesterday that I wasn’t going to bitch and moan about this all month?
I did.
I went to my wonderful diminutive eye doctor yesterday, and he informed me that my eye infection has gotten worse. Apparently there are now blood vessels growing over my cornea.
Eeeew!
God, that statement made me queasy, and I have no idea what it means. I just know that I now have three little bottles of stuff to put in my eyes, and that one of them burns like nothing I could ever have imagined. I think’s it’s hydrochloric acid. The doctor warned me that it “might sting a little”. That’s like saying getting your arm caught in a laundry press “burns a tad”. I have to use the stuff three times a day, and damn, it hurts.
He also confirmed that yes, ma’am, I am still legally blind. Can’t see a foot in front of my face, blind as a bat, conpletely visually screwed, candidate for a big smelly dog with a harness, and a reader of little raised dots.
I’m not exactly to the Braille point yet - I was being facetious. I’ve been advised to take the class, but I feel that it would be an admission of defeat, so I don’t. I’ll probably still be banging my face against the monitor even when my son starts to look like a big, fuzzy blob.
I like living in denial. It beats the hell out of reality.
SSI is really pissing me off. I think I’m going to send my caseworker some exploding Christmas cookies. She has the nicest little sugary voice mail message, and the woman never answers her damn voice mail. I think that SSI proccedure dictates a claimant must leave 400 messages before a phone call can be returned.
J. and I were in quite the war this morning. The kid really thinks he’s slick. Before he came in my room to wake me up, he took off his half-soaked clothes and wet Pull-Up, and shoved them in a drawer. He’s tried this before, but now he’s added a new twist to this dastardly plan. This time, he picked out a fresh outfit, so that I wouldn’t go into the drawers for clothes like a nosy little Mommy and find the evidence.
It almost worked, due to the fact that I can’t smell a thing until I take my allergy medication, and I didn’t catch the stench coming from the drawer. However, unfortunately for my little mastermind, his pants were on inside out. When I went to turn the pants back to normal, I was surprised to find that he was going commando.
Sorry. In my house, you wear underwear, because I do the laundry.
So I did a quick Pull-Up search, spanked and re-Pull-Uped his sneaky little butt, and prayed for God to send me a merciful Xanax from heaven.
No sign of it yet.
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