Why can't my children do normal things when left to their own devices. Watching a movie during the summer (not allowed) should be enough of an illicit thrill, don't you think? Why, when their mother is sick, sick (darn bronchial something or other) wouldn't they play nurse and take care of her instead of ripping a loaf of bread apart and spreading the crumbs over the ENTIRE house. Including taking all the books off the book shelf to put the bread in the book shelf shelves. Why, why, why????? Especially since I made such a huge effort yesterday to get a few things done, including vacuum the entire house (actually, made the kids vacuum the entire house, which is even more effort), and make bread. Why did I do those things? Why didn't I just sit on the couch trying hard to breathe?
Then, why would they take all my kitchen stuff downstairs, open a can of applesauce, and try to eat it with large stirring spoons. WHY DO THEY THINK OF THESE THINGS??????
I can't breathe enough to yell at them. Now that's sad. They deserve it. I only slept in until 9:30. I stayed up too late because I waited until Cowen fell asleep (9:00 pm) so I could get in the bathtub and create a little humidity for myself, and then that felt so good for my lungs that I stayed in longer than I should. So I went to bed later than I should have, and slept in later than I should have. But, sometimes, I think my punishments far outweigh my sins. This is one of those times.
And no, Polly, now that I have these chronic bronchial bouts, I no longer think dying of consumption is romantic. I think I should go to Switzerland and stay with Kayli. Don't most consumptive patients or those with TB have to travel somewhere for a better climate or they'll die? I think that's what I need. A better climate. I guess my relatives will just have to take my children for me. It's what family does when a family member is dying of consumption in a harsh, DRY, climate.
I must go check on Miriam's vacuuming job. I am not taking down a wooden spoon with me. Too little sleep, too little air in my lungs, too many small children=losing your temper. I'm prepared to be very calm. Stop laughing. I mean it. Wish me luck.
4 comments:
I think that you must go to the Alps to recover. That is my medical opinion.
I love that you're my physician.
Andrea, you didn't tell me about the kicked-in TV. Ouch. And I think Switzerland is a good choice. And just so you know, I had a nightmare last night about my kids spilling a bag of stale bread crumbs all over the living room floor, and I was so upset because we had no vacuum. (That part is real, I took it to the repair shop the day before.) Sorry you're living my nightmare. I love you and hang in there.
Yikes! Good questions. I have always wondered those myself. Kids.
I truly hope you feel MUCH MUCH better soon. If I lived next door, I would come on over and take care of your house and kids so you could make that trip to see Kayli. Honest I would.
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