On how Bird recovers

Except for a headache and a tender throat, Bird seemed to be better yesterday. But my god, the headache must be a doozy if her disposition is any indication.

Mama could not do anything right yesterday. I did not have any good ideas concerning what she could do. She was tired of reading, she was tired of TV, we already played (the best game ever – run out and buy this it is so awesome) ColorKu, she didn’t want to latch hook, draw or make a pot holder. Why didn’t I have any good ideas? What could she dooooooo-oooooooo? Please mama? What could she do? She was bor-ed. At one point I’m pretty sure I heard her mutter “Dammit woman, entertain me.”

In desperation I pulled out the embroidery kit she had been given at some point but never actually worked on, and this, it seemed was actually a good idea. Except that it wasn’t. Because this was not the time to try and learn something new. Our lesson dialog went something like this:

Why couldn’t I stop doing the project for her and let her do it (I had done two squares to show her how…)? Why did I have to keep telling her she was doing it wrong (like saying put the needle in that square, sweetie)? Why doesn’t hers look like the one in the picture (might it have something to do with the fact that I had stopped saying she was doing it wrong…)? Why is Mare eating so loud? Why was I watching her? The paint! It is coming off! How will she know how to do the colors? Waaaaaah! Why was Mare staring at her? Get away, all of you! Arghhhhhhhh, I can’t do anything!!!!!!!

Needless to say, I convinced her that a dose of Tylenol and a little more TV might be just what the doctor ordered.

John got home from work to find the kids parked in front of inappropriate cartoons, the pork chops overcooked, the pan sauce burned and two empty bottles of beer on the kitchen counter.