aw ba masulf

Was planning on writing a reasonable post tonight... then I get a message from my hubby at work "I don't feel so good." Followed by about a hundred more messages about how he really doesn't feel good.

Followed by him telling me on the way home that he really doesn't feel good.

Then he didn't want the supper I spent an hour preparing because he really wasn't feeling good.

Then he fell asleep whilst I entertained our hilarious two year old because, guess what, he really didn't feel good.

So, instead of writing a post about something of which I had yet to think of anyways... I've now just put my baby to sleep after we fought over a book for ten minutes because she wanted to read it "aw ba masulf" (all by myself) first and she was stuck on the first page telling me about her favourite colours for the entire ten minutes and we still had another book to get through... NOW, I'm off to clean up after the supper I made that nobody ate because Dan "really wasn't feeling good" and Jane "does like that" which translates to her throwing it on the floor when I'm not looking for "monny" (our dog, Molly).

I'm sure in the midst of my cleaning I'll hear a whimpering "....jeeeeennnnnny...." to which I'll respond "ughhhhh, what do you want!" combined with a serious and exaggerated rolling of the eyes and Dan'll ask me for some juice or water or if we have any gravol... something ridiculous. I blame my unsympathetic bitch trait on my mother, who was a nurse. In my house - you had to be seriously bleeding or getting close to needing a trip to the ER before you got sympathy and that's just the way I like it. When I'm sick... leave me the hell alone and, for Gods sake, don't try to do something for me, cause I'll do it "aw ba masulf" thank you very much.

Oh crippers, he just moved from the couch to ask me "what's that noise?" when the only thing on is the freakin' tv... "ah, what noise" I ask. "The bass" he says. DUH!! "ah, the tv..." ("stupid" I said that in my head, not out loud) Like I'm not over here on my side of the room throwing a rave.

Save me. We should have a special hospital for men when they are "sick"... send 'um off to lie around and huff and puff until they get better. I bet the divorce rate would improve. Or the murder rate.

PS - These are pictures I took while Dan slept... I managed to keep Jane busy by "take more pictures of me mommy" and some "aws cweam". :) Mom of the Year baby - accepting nominations now.