Micah was sick yesterday. He started out just fine except for that cold that has been getting progressively worse, but then as soon as I got him from class he ran to the restroom and gagged. So we loaded in the car and went home, but on the way home he continued his gagging and produced a fair amount of cold drainage stuff (i.e., snot). When we got home the real fun started. His stomach reached the saturation point of snot, and emptied itself. From both ends. As he was upchucking into the toilet, there was a brown puddle forming behind him on the floor. I felt so bad for the poor guy. I even felt bad for him as I was cleaning it up, that's how bad I felt. No self pity here. He was one snot-laden boy. And then he slept on the couch for 3 hours. That right there is akin to a miracle. Or the impending apocalypse. Or both. That's how not good he felt.
When he woke up, he was kind of himself again, except he didn't really want to eat much more than toast. And I was okay with that in the event that his tummy staged another mutiny. He felt good enough to brew himself a cup of coffee in the Keurig, even though he doesn't drink coffee. And isn't allowed to use the Keurig. He poured grounds directly into the top where water filters down through. I've been running water through it all day to try to get those grounds flushed through but I think they're multiplying in there like my dust bunnies do under the sofa.
So this morning when he slept in nearly an hour past his normal get-up time, I knew he still wasn't feeling all that chipper. I made a deal with him. If he was good and helped out, I'd let him stay home from school. I needed something out of this deal, too, right? No whining while unloading the dishwasher would be a good thing.
Oh, the things we live to regret.
I stripped the bed sheets and was just getting ready to put new ones on when I heard the dogs. Our dogs are crated overnight, so the click of nails on laminate meant that Micah let them out. And then I heard them go outside and ran downstairs before I could get the sheets out of the closet because when Micah lets the dogs out and I'm nowhere near, those dogs think it's a free for all, all through the neighborhood. Thankfully nobody ran off.
Darla, the new mom, has had loose bowels every morning for a few days. I think the overnight with the puppies is getting to be too much for her. She normally asks to go out every 8.3 minutes for an hour and then she's good for the day. Not today, because today was Monday. Today she sat at my feet while I stood at the counter and shot liquid feces onto the cabinet doors. It was every bit as pleasant as you'd imagine it to be, and smelled far worse. As I was cleaning that up, Micah decided to brew himself another cup of coffee. Except he didn't put water in the Keurig. I caught that and turned it off.
Then Darla barfed on the floor. She's a small dog. She has a small stomach. It's baffling, therefore, that she was able to barf up an entire 50 pound bag of dog food, and follow with an encore. It smelled better than the previous mess, though, so there's that.
I asked Micah to unload the dishwasher because by golly, I was going to hold him to that helping out promise he made me. But he came hopping to me to show me the dog poo on the bottom of his foot that he'd stepped in. Darla tried to make it to the door, but didn't make it in time. I could trace her path all across the floor as she wended her way through the kitchen. The good times. They're rolling.
Micah fed the cats, who live outdoors, and Jill and Darla got out the door. They failed to come in, and didn't come when called. I walked the property, screaming for them to return, thinking the neighbors probably wish hellfire and brimstone on us nine days out of ten. After realizing that Jill has ID tags and she and Darla were probably together, and they'd probably come home soon anyway (right?), I went inside to be sure Micah wasn't doing something he shouldn't. Jill and Darla met me at the door, because when I was standing at the door calling for them they couldn't bring themselves to come out from behind the couch to see what it is I wanted.
When I finally had time to brew myself a cup of chai tea, I took it outside on the patio to listen to the sounds of leaves falling. I never realized before that leaves were so noisy as they crash to the ground, catching branches and gathering friends as they go. Quiet time was so very welcomed this morning, if just for five minutes. It ended when I had to chew the coffee grounds in the bottom of my tea cup.
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