Maybe it's because things have been so busy. Even hubby has been feeling it. After his sister's big 5-0 birthday bash, he's been a bit over emotional - a term I thought I'd never associate with him. But it's true. Pair a birthday party with family slide shows of his sister and their mother (who passed away around 16 years ago) with Oldest's toe crisis, house hunting, and the shocking news this morning of a friend's suicide I guess a little "missing time" is no big thing, and being a little over emotional is pretty damn normal.
Friday I'm talking Oldest to have his toe surgery. They did blood tests on him to check for staph infection yesterday. Oldest is not needle friendly, so hubby found the situation quite harrowing. However, that was small beans compared to the incident that nearly required police intervention yesterday.
*Read on at your own risk - now entering the Cora Zane Rant Zone*
While sitting in the ER, one of the hospital "residents" (and no I'm not talking about the hospital staff. I mean the local crackheads that practically live at the hospital and wander around the clinics and ER while they're high - not sure if that's just a Louisiana thing, or if it's a national phenomenon, or what, but there it is) walked over and sat down next to Oldest. Right there, this cracked out pervert propositioned my son for sex. My sixteen year old son. With my husband - his DAD - sitting right there beside him.
We're all very lucky hubby isn't in jail right now for beating a junkie/pervert/pedophile down in the effing ER. Not that the sick bastard didn't deserve it. *rubs temples*
As you can imagine, we all hoped they take Oldest's toenails yesterday, but of course they're going to give him the rounds of antibiotics first. So we get to go through this joyous event of sitting in their security-less waiting rooms yet again. Hubby can't get out of work another day, so this next time the pleasure of sitting with a kid amongst the junkies in the chamber of horrors falls to me. Thankfully, however, they are going to cauterize the nailbed so the nails (hopefully) won't grow back. Please, powers of the universe, please don't let Oldest's toenails grow back. *_*
**Safety notice: ending Rant Zone**
On another, lighter note...
I managed to get Hubby and Oldest to do a teeny, tiny favor for me while he went and did the hospital rounds with Oldest. :*> See, we have to go to a different city to go to the hospital - well, we could go to our local hosital, but they just look at you, send you to the city hospital, and then send you a bill for $700 for the trouble - but I digress...
While in "different city", hubby dropped by the out of town Wal-mart to fill Oldest prescription for antibiotics. He called me from there, and I convinced hubby to go to the toy department for me. I had him and Oldest look up every Strawberry Shortcake doll and playset on the shelf that I don't currently have. ROFL! Of course, all the new dolls were all on a really high shelf that required a ladder... and special doll hunting assistance.
This woman associate comes over, climbed this ladder for them, and while hubby had me on the phone, he's sorting boxes of SSC figures, reading off box labels, telling me what scent they are and passing them to Oldest either to hold, or to see if he recognized them. (I could hear Oldest in the background: Well, how the heck should I know! I don't collect these things!) Bwahahahahahahaha! ^_^ It's love, I tell you...
They came home with three dolls for me. *snicker* I noticed they had them all in a bag to themselves, which made me wonder: Doll cooties? Oldest carries them in the house and the look on his face... PRICELESS. In a very unamused voice, he passes me the bag. "Your dolls, Mother." ++
Why, thank you, Sugah! *giggle, giggle, snort* ^_^
++What a great moment to be a mom!