The bottle is all-the-way empty.
(Last bottle of Goose Island Root Beer).
Note that even LLGA looks morose.
The humble Crab Queen knows that just when the household appears poised for revolution, the microbes will unionize and attack.
LLGA has been battling, most valiantly, a very lady-like cough/wheeze for going on a week. She was breathing too rapidly for my peace-of-mind and so I took the only available slot (a 4:15 p.m.) one.
GMK and I whiled away much of Tuesday morning and then, whammo, the phone rang...
It was Charlie's 1-1 aide to report that Charlie seemed to have a "real" tummy ache -- vice his usual and customary avoidant/protest behavior. Naturally, we had made his lunch already and his in-home tutor was already in the house. He seemed quite upbeat but then began a litany of stomach-related complaints. He also invoked "sleepy" which for novelty alone (I like to reinforce original thought), I decided to give him the day off.
In true on-the-eve-of-the-Apocolypse fashion, GMK ran out briefly to fill the gas tank of the CR-V and to fetch some vital supplies from Staples (in order to guarantee printing capacity for her Southwest boarding pass -- all roads lead to her vacation). She returned and we revisited the afternoon plan:
Me to Hospital.
Jack home.
Jamie to stay with Charlie so GMK could run Jack to LL practice.
Respite arrival at 5.
Tim home at 5:45.
Me to fetch Jack en route home.
I had not driven THREE BLOCKS (in fact, stuck at the light at Garnet, for those familiar with the Castle's 'hood) when the Castle phone rang (and subsequently, the Queen-cell rang):
Foul-up with Tim's bus. It failed to deliver him in time for him to go forth into the community with CCC Kids. So he's being delivered back to M----n Middle School.
See plan above. Nowhere in the plan does it allow GMK to be at MMS. I was borderline timely for LLGA's appointment. So I called Bus Transportation -- a number that I, alas, know by heart.
14 painful, agonizing, adrenaline-coursing minutes (and FOUR people -- 2 supervisors among them) later, the bus people agreed to transport Tim (think Sam Kenison's sarcastic holler about ) TO WHERE HIS PEOPLE ARE! This comprised my ENTIRE drive to the hospital.
When I called to tell GMK the "great news", that they'd deliver Tim, she informed me that Charlie had, in fact, as his mother's maternal instinct had detected would occur: "hurled".
By the time we emerged from the pediatrician with a diagnosis of RSV (aka bronchiolitis) that confirmed the wheeze and rapid respiration but is a virus so we wait it out AS WELL AS the discouraging news that LLGA is down to 18 pounds 4 ounces, I called the Castle only to find out that Tim was STILL not home and that C-boy had indeed "hurled again." I delivered lots of praise that GMK had not left the castle to take Jack as planned. Good call, GMK!
Tim ended up riding the bus from 2:35 to 4:40 and was, as his mother's maternal instinct would predict, in a foul-type mood upon arriving home.
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And there's no GOOSE ISLAND root beer purveyor in San Diego. I researched online options and it would cost ridiculous sums of money to ship bottled root beer. So I am in mourning. And hoping that the good folks at Goose Island Brewery reply to my e-mail in which I beseech them to identify a San Diego distributor.
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And, of course, Charlie's trendline continued overnight ... GMK could not hear him SIX FEET FROM HER EAR because she snores. I, however, on a couch across the room -- because of my mother's intuition, caught not one, not two, but three extrapolated occurrences in the 3-quart stockpot. (I like a handle and confirm that you really don't want my cooking).
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Today has been a day of small, frequent Gatorade drinking and so far, so good. Took Jack to a re-assessment for Vision Therapy; (it seems he's made tons of progress). Went to Sears for vac bags and ended up buying a pair of much-coveted Land's End Z-strap mary-janes that I couldn't pull the trigger on for $40 at the 1/2-off clearance price of $12.49. This fabulous fortune (amid so much microbial persecution) sent me to The Children's Place where I paid not-quite-full-price-but-close-enough for 2 pairs of Yoga Pants and 2 cute t-shirts for the girl with the full-figure.
3 comments:
I warrant lots of social reinforcement for NOT engaging in photo-journalistic pursuits for this posting.
Last week I drove to Kerney Mesa for good ole' therapy. I parked and heard a "gag, cough, whoosh" from the backseat. Jack had hurled all over the van. Put car in reverse and drove home. Good thing is that the feared "barf-o-rama" has not yet materialized.
Sorry about the RSV!
might check to see if there is a friar tuck near you...they'll get you any kind of drink you like...from anywhere (atleast that's the rumor) i'm sure there is extra cost, but if it makes you happy...
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