Well, you'd think I've been busy with the holidays and therefore not able to post. You'd be only half right.
Last Saturday (11-17) was Happy Girl's final show of the production that she was in (read about it here and here) and exactly 3.5 hours post production the dreaded stomach virus set in. Yuck. It has been years since I saw Happy Girl this sick. It was baaaaaad. Sad thing is her birthday was Wednesday and she still wasn't feeling all that great. Better - but not good enough for birthday dinner, movie or cake.
Good thing is that we were able to head off to grandma's house for Thanksgiving because she was feeling back to her silly self on Thursday. Thanksgiving went great and we had a good time.
And wouldn't you know. Exactly 3.5 hours post Thanksgiving Happy Boy got the dreaded stomach virus. Yeah.
I had one day of healthy Happy Kiddos.
So, here I sit on Sunday morning (second Sunday that I've missed church due to this yucky stuff) with a not-so-Happy Boy. Day three of this junk. And you know what Happy Boy just said?"I like being sick. Being sick is fun!"
I asked what it was that he liked about it. And you know what that crazy boy said?"I like being sick because you like don't have to go to the store with your mom.
And if you want to eat or drink your mom or dad get it for you, I don't have to
go get it at all. And I can watch T.V. all day."
There you have it folks, I'm raising a lazy narcissist. Great.
I'm praying that hubby and I don't get it - this stuff is nasty - that is if you're not a lazy narcissist.
2 Comments:
Thanks God she got it POST show! What a bummer if she got sick before!!! I hope she had a good time performing. :)
Awe, lighten up on your boy (hee hee). He's right, it is pretty fun having someone wait on you and doing nothing all day. ha ha ha.
By
Heather Hansen, at 1:16 PM
I feel compelled to tell you about the time your grandmother and I got a very severe case of what besieged your family. We lived in Ardmore, OK, your dad was about five years old. We were so sick we almost could not get out of bed, but your dad had to be fed. Your grandmother struggled to the kitchen, got out a can of chicken soup, and went beck to bed. I got up and opened the can of soup and went back to bed. Helen got up and mixed milk with the soup - back to bed. I went and started it heating - back to bed. Helen got up and managed to set the food in front of you uncomplaining dad, whose sweet attitude helped nurse us back to health.
By
Thank you for your love for Bob Adams, Pastor Bulldog. He loved you too!, at 11:35 PM
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