Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Insult to Injury

All right. Enough of this sweetness & light that’s been hanging around here lately; folks are going to begin to think I’m not a real person! High time for good old “Gripe Session”; buckle your seat belts.

+   First of all, getting old bites. Yes, I will admit it- I am middle aged & I feel every one of those 45 years hanging on me. The symphony of crackles, creaks, grinding & groaning first thing in the morning rankles the nerves of everyone present; Poppy has taken to giving me dirty looks for disturbing her royal slumber & stalks off to sulk in the corner. The cold, wet weather has aggravated all the normally moderate aches & pains we live with- between my hands & Chris’ knees, we’re going through a bottle of ibuprofen (100 caps) a week.

+   I have been playing “Clothing Roulette” with my soon-to-be 17 year old son- you know, the one who is normally pretty easy going & malleable. Here’s how you play:

o       Mom does the laundry (drag downstairs, wash, & dry), then asks the boy to fold & put away the clean clothes.

o       The boy heaves enormous sigh of oppression, before stomping upstairs to get a basket, where he is promptly distracted by: (a) cell phone, (b) video game, (c) the patterns on the ceiling over his bed.

o       Mom notices an hour later that the clothes are still in the dryer, & reminds the boy- who is now sitting on the sofa watching TV- that the clothes still need to be folded & put away.

o       The boy rolls his eyes, mutters something resembling “If it bugs you so much, do it yourself”, stomps back upstairs for the basket he forgot earlier, & precedes to roll it down the stairs or drag it behind him- Thump-Thump-Thump

o       Thirty minutes later, Mom walks through the living room to see the empty laundry basket on the sofa & the boy sitting in the recliner, eating an orange & dropping the peel on the floor.

o       In reply to the query “Are the clothes put away yet?” the boy states he was hungry & he’ll do it when he’s done; having been told that he is done & pick up that blasted peel, the boy removes clothes from dryer & drops them on the floor- next to the basket- & begins rolling them in balls & tossing them into the basket, Michael Jordan style.

o       Mom comes back through the living room later & spots the basket of wadded clothing sitting on the sofa, instructs the boy- who is now practicing with his kendo sword right below the ceiling fan- to re-fold the clothes & take them upstairs.... now!

o       Dad now enters the game- he trips over the basket of clothing in the upstairs hallway & calls for the boy to finish what he was told to do

o       The boy deposits the basket of clothes on parents’ bed

o       Mom deposits the basket of clothes in front of boy’s bedroom door

o       The boy moves the basket of clothes back into the hallway to get through the door

o       Dad picks up the basket of clothes & dumps contents on the boy’s bed

o       The boy goes to bed, dropping the folded clothing on the floor

o       The next morning, Mom picks the clothes up off the floor, puts them back on the boy’s bed, & tells the boy to put them away before he leaves for school

o       The boy stashes the clothes on his closet floor, before bolting out the door for Driver’s Ed class

o       Mom goes in search of her socks & sees the clothes on the floor; since she is in her underwear, she can’t charge out the door after the boy, so she puts the clothes back on his bed, murmuring obsenities

o       In the evening, while boy is taking his second shower of the day, Mom flushes the toilet, & when boy leans out the stall door to yell at whoever did it, she grabs his earlobe, frog marches him- starkers & dripping- into his room, & watches while he puts the clothing away.

This game is played roughly once a week- I sincerely hope the boy’s brain cells start sparking again soon.

+   After six years of being clean-shaven, Chris has decided to grow one of those Vandyke beards. I don’t know why; he’s not normally one to follow the crowd (hence, the full head of hair in a community of shaved heads), so part of me is slightly apprehensive & the rest is just plain annoyed. Chris is a natural blond, with nary a grey hair on his head that I’ve been able to spot (blast his 46 year old hide); this new venture is sporting a calico flair- the mustache coming in a dark blond & the beard pure black, with two bright white stripes running down the chin- similar to a skunk’s markings. The current length & texture is that of a cheap nylon nail brush; forget whisker burn- I’m being punctured each evening during his lemon-sucking-lip-pucker jab my direction as he heads to bed. Yep- unfortunately, we are back to “ships passing in the night”- refer to #1 in this post ...*sigh*

+   I had to go back to the doctor on Friday. Not to worry- nothing serious & my foot is still feeling pretty good, all things considered. No, I’ve developed my first ever yeast infection.

In my armpit.

Yes, you read that correctly; apparently, the cortisone shot I had last month (also a first) suppressed my immune system enough for the ever-present fungus to blossom into full smelly, itchy, burning glory under both arms. Two weeks of no shaving or deodorant, & daily doses of Lama*sil- same stuff they use for j*ck-itch. Boy, am I a class act or what?

Well, that’s it for now; I have to put in some hours at my desk, preparing year-end reports & hopefully rack up some overtime hours; Chris has been put on 4-day weeks for the next month unless enough people leave (always a possibility on short hours) or bookings pick-up. The timing could not have been worse- we are scheduled to go on vacation in March & I’ve already purchased the non-refundable tickets; unless the tax return arrives promptly, we may be camping out in Washington, DC for Spring Break. Now that would be an adventure.

4 comments:

Stefaneener said...

I applaud your resolve. It's so hard to keep after them while they wander around. . . It's not all fun, that's for sure.

Haus Frau said...

Life is just a party all time, huh? There's a fungus amongus. ;o) been there done that. ew.

Dana said...

You crack me up! That boy being dragged out of the shower had me in tears. I can so relate!

Eek - no deodorant? I would die!!! Good thing you live in California! There is no way anyone could stand to go without deodorant in Houston, even in the so called winter!!!

Hope you feel better soon!

Shanna said...

HAHAHA! I like how you handled boy and his laundry!! I'll have to remember the flushing toilet/ear grab! ;)