I was sick this week.
I know, I know. Mommies are not allowed to get sick. Well, I guess my immune system didn't get the memo, because I got the flu.
So for about two days, when I wasn't busy driving everyone to all the various places they had to get to, I was lying on the couch or my bed, alternately shivering and sweating, and periodically croaking instructions to the kids.
Did my pitiful state make the kids more or less likely to listen to me? No.
Did seeing poor Mommy felled by the flu inspire them to be more helpful and considerate? No.
Did they even try to go easy on me or leave me alone for the duration of my illness? Um... Not really, no.
Example Scene:
Mommy is lying huddled on the couch wrapped in a quilt while the twins alternately sit on her, jump on her, shove each other on/off her, et cetera, and various inane cartoons play on Netflix.
Banging noises come from upstairs. Mommy pulls the quilt over her head to block out the sound as the thumping increases. Finally a long scream starts.
The scream continues, growing in volume as it gets closer, all the way down the stairs. Finally the screamer appears. It is Boo.
Boo: Mommy Mommy Mommy Mommy MOMMY!!!!!!!
Me: (weakly) what.
Boo: GG put my RECORDER in her PANTS!
I'm going to pause this scene for one minute here to point out: I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. One kid actually put another kid's musical instrument in her pants. GG's defense was "She wouldn't stop playing it and it's annoying."
Okay. I'll admit that the recorder is not the most melodious instrument on earth; in fact, it sounds a lot like an icepick in the ear, even when properly played. Still, to put it down your PANTS? Come on! Honestly, I was stymied as to what to do here.
(recorder image from www.amazon.com)
Me: Okay. What do you want me to do about this?
Boo: (long pause) Make GG live somewhere else?
Me: That's not really an option.
Boo: Please?
Me: Boo. I'm sick. Can you two just please try to get along for today?
Boo: (obviously unhappy with this) I guess.
Me: (as one of the twins body-slams me) Ow.
Little Boy: Mommy I want JUICE!
Little Girl: Me too me too me too! I want JUICE!
ET: Mom can you proof-read this paper? It's due tomorrow.
Me: (groans)
The good news is, once my husband came home I was allowed to crawl upstairs and sleep for a while.
And after a couple of days, it became apparent that I would not in fact die.
Which was good, because everyone wanted dinner and the sink was full of dirty dishes.
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