It's Puke Time!

“TRASH CAN!!!!” – those were the words that had me sprinting out of bed like a mad man Saturday morning at the crack-ass of dawn. My precious little princess needed a bucket to bury her head in while she unleashed a fury of puke. She’d been puking since 1 a.m. – roughly the time my wifey got back from her birthday celebration with a friend while I stayed home with a feverish daughter.

I hate hearing her the daughter scream those words. I hate the pukes. I hate when you hold the door for people and they don’t say “thanks.” I hate pooping in public restrooms. I hate when you’re walking down a busy street and you trip on a crack and almost fall, but don’t and are then faced with having to play it off with a slight little jog like everyone’s really gonna believe that you just felt like breaking into a 14-step jog just for the hell of it on the way to work.

So she gets the trash can, pukes…..and pukes….then says, “I’m done. Wash-cloth!!!” And I take the trash can, give her a damp, cool wash cloth to wipe her face and mouth with. Then I tuck her back in bed and go sanitize the living shit out of myself.

Having a sick kid sucks. I hate it more than anything and I’ll do anything to make the kids feel better. But I can’t help but analyze the difference between the two.

Son

Usually he gets one good puke in his bed which wakes him up. Then he stand up, screams “daddy I’m throwing up!!!” while running like a naked banshee through the hall, puke spewing out his nose cause his hands are over his mouth, then he pukes all over the toilet. But from that point on – he makes it to the toilet every time. Of course he always has to announce to me…not the wifey, but me...that he’s puking.

Daughter

The princess in her takes over. She might as well say in her 14^th-century voice, “Oh father dear!!! Father!! Please fetch my golden puking pan! Oh no silly man, not that one, the one mother and I bought the other day whilst in the city. Oh good God father, the ooother one. And it better have a shine to it. I had the butler shine it and if he didn’t well I will just have to get upset, now won’t I. Now hurry up father as I am going to vomit all over it. Bring it here. Now hold my hair and turn away…..I am a lady after all.”

As a kid I remember I couldn’t throw up until I had woken my mother and informed her of the impending toilet decoration I was about to unleash. She was one hell of a heavy sleeper. As soon as I’d get her awake, I’d tear-ass down the carpeted hallway and a good 10 feet from the bathroom I’d just let it launch. Like a dog pissing in his favorite spot in the house, I was drawn to this one spot at the top of the stairs where I’d puke every time.

The wifey’s gotten better, but for a while, she would always give the kids water right after they finished puking. And I’d be all: “Shnookums. You can’t give them anything to eat or drink or else they’ll puke it right back up. You have to wait for a while to make sure the puke bug is gone.”

“But she asked for water and she will get dehydrated.”

“I’d like you to take your shirt off. I’m actually asking you to…does that mean you’ll do it?”

“What is it with you and my boobs?”

“You've got a great rack, but don’t go getting all cocky. I have been known to visually enjoy other ladies boobs.”

“Our kid is puking and you’ve somehow managed to even turn that into a conversation about boobs!!! You seriously need to go to counseling.”

So long story short…we took daughter to the Dr. They said go to the ER. They wanted to watch her overnight. They did a shit-ton of tests. Originally they thought it was a urinary tract infection and/or flu. By the time the daughter came home they were convinced it was only the flu, but still weren't sure. We get test results back on Tuesday. Until then, she’s on tami-flu and antibiotics.

Thanks to everyone who send wonderful thoughts and continually asked about her over the weekend. I can’t even begin to tell you how awesome you all are. Thank you!!

The Wife & I Discuss Pointy Bras

Wifey: “So, did you know pointy bras are coming back in style.”

Me: “Does that mean you’re gonna finally buy some new bras?”

Wifey: “You’re an asshole…just because my bras don’t have flowers and aren’t lacy and my panties don't have ‘sexy’ across the ass doesn’t mean they’re not hot.”

Me: “I never said your skin-toned skibbies weren’t hot. I was just asking because you starting talking about pointy booby holders.”

Wifey: “Seriously honey…do you have a problem with my undergarments?”

Me: “Isn’t an ‘undergarment’ like a slip or something a Sunday school teacher wears? It makes me think of my grandmother walking around the house before bed in like 18 layers of silky nastiness filled with hooks and wires and shit. I’d much prefer you to say ‘panties.’”

Wifey: “Why can’t we ever have a normal conversation anymore? Can’t you save your Mr. Funny-Man routine for the internet?”

Me: “You mean the interweb machine thingy?”

Wifey “SEE?!!!!”

Me: “All right…sorry…damn. So who in the hell would wear those pointy bra things, anyway?”

Wifey: “I don’t know…I wouldn’t.”

Me: “What about tassels? Would you wear them if they had tassels hanging off them? And you could shake your chest and make them twirl and go in opposite directions….that would be money if you did that.”

Wifey: “You really need to lay off the porn.”

Me: “I haven’t watched porn in hours.”

Wifey: “You know the kids can find that stuff on the computer, because you have it so easy to find.”

Me: *loud throat clear “interweb machine thingy” *loud throat clear

Wifey: “Did you go to school to learn how to be such a difficult person to talk to?”

Me: “No, I took bowling because asshole was full. So seriously, I haven’t even seen one pointy boob walking around in the city. I don’t think they’ve made a come-back quite yet.”

Wifey: “I’m just sayin’, I read an article that said they’re coming back.”

Me: “Since when do you read the newspaper?”

Wife: “I read the paper…you’re not around me all day, you have no idea what I read and don’t read.”

Me: “You saw it on Oprah didn’t you?”

Wifey: “I hate you.”

Me: “I seriously don’t think you like me anymore.”

Wifey: “Oh for the love of God here we go again.”

Me: “No…I’m serious. I wake up most mornings sore as hell, and I know it’s because you’re giving me badly practiced acupuncture at night. The other day, Grayson called me a meanie and I swear I saw you high-five him. And today…just today when I opened my lunch bag, there was a note in with my sandwich that said ‘die fucker’ and I’ve had a stomach ache ever since.”

Wifey: “I DID NOT high five Grayson. I would never teach him that name calling was OK.”

Me: “If I bought you a pointy bra would you wear it?”

Wifey: “Keep kicking back those beers and you might need a pointy bra, drunk-o.”

Me: “That would be awesome! It would be like a boob-flask for dudes. I could fill one with beer and the other with Jager with straws coming out of both. I wonder if that’s been patented?”

Wifey: “Idiot….”

Me: “We really should talk more often. This was nice.”

Wifey: “Sssshhh…CSI’s coming on.”

My Life Scripted

"Hey Bob, how you doin'?"

"So uhh..are we in New York now?" I said as I looked around for some laughter, but everyone was looking at their feet.

"Hahahha man you're funny...you're a funny guy. And the Yankees suck!!"

"I'm actually a Yankees fan so that kinda pisse...."

"Hey yeah whatever, so listen. Can you pull together that PowerPoint presentation by tomorrow instead of next week? I gotta present it and it's crunch time! You gotta play to get paid right?!!!" and if it couldn’t get any worse he raises his hand to fucking high-five me!

"Sure...ahhh...sure thing. I'll knock that.."

"You're a team player...you da man!!..," he interrupts as he walks away spotting his next victim.

Fighting the urge to run outside and spend an hour kicking kittens, I jump right in to work….

Later, I come home, happy to see the family, hug the lil’ bastards, hear how everyone’s day was rough cause Samantha wouldn’t color with a green crayon, and cause Teddy wouldn’t throw the kickball slow enough for him….and then I head to the kitchen. I grab a beer…open it…slug back a few sips…set it down….catch my breath for a second…then turn and see this:

Yeah..that’s right…my day scripted. I busted my ass all day Sunday, I get a comp-day, I decide to use it on Friday – my son’s birthday and what does the wifey do?!!! Oh…oh I’ll tell you for fuck’s sake. She signs me up at not just my son’s school, but my daughter’s school to “volunteer” to work parties and shit.

So, in my head I planned, sleep….wake-up, take the kids to school, sleep, wake-up, run, bike, shower, go to store, buy all their Snuggies, burn the Snuggies, talk to Jennifer Aniston for an hour on Skype, make a deal with PlayGirl for $1 million to model for them, sleep, pick kids up, play and have fun, buy son sushi for his birthday dinner, open presents, twit pic and comment back on all the people who said he’s adorable, put the kids to bed, walk around the house naked in front of the wifey, and go to bed with no sex.

But in wifey’s head – my day goes like this – wake up, tell wifey she’s beautiful, let her kick me in the shins, get kids dressed, feed kids, take kids to school, meet wife at parking lot near her work so she can kick me in the shins, volunteer at both kids’ schools, pick kids up from school, do laundry, make dinner, bathe kids, put kids to bed, rub wife’s back while telling her how all men suck, pick out wife’s clothes for the next day, sing a sonnet to the wifey as she drifts off to sleep, then go to bed.

The moral of the story…honestly I don’t know…I guess all I can say is…kick-ass lady-folk that read this…don’t make a fucking chalkboard list of shit for your hubby to do on his day off. And for shit-sake, don’t volunteer him for crap on his day off. Let the man breathe.

And if you ‘re reading this honey..I love you schnookums… P.S. umm…can uh…can we “do it” tonight?

 

Gettin' Our Spontaneity-On

So the wifey and I had “that talk” again. Yeah…that one. The one where I’m all:

“We need some spontaneity in our sex life…”

And she’s all, “sponta-kiss my ass idiot-boy.”

“come on…don’t be like that…I’m just saying, sometimes I feel like kids are ruling our lives these days and we never get a..”

“Hold on..JUST HOLD ON!!.......what Grayson?” long pause….then “yes, I fed your fish just before you came up stairs…now go to bed!!” she then looks at me, “I’m sorry… you were rambling about some kind of ‘aneity’ or something…”

“Hey, we’re both dealing with this….and it sucks at times, but if we don’t…”

“Jesus..hold on…yes Macy?!!!” the wifey yells as she throws yet another layer of blankets over her… “Yes…you can read one more book, then GO TO BED!!!!” she then contorts her face into a well-crafted smart-ass face and says, “I’m sorry…you were trying to make me feel bad for not being a hardcore porno slut, wearing nighties, thongs, and knee-highs to help you get your rocks off…..please continue…”

“I…I uhhh…baby you look really nice tonight and I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate what you do for this family,” I say as I’m turning the channel from the MLB playoffs to Oxygen. “I can’t even remember the last time I went to bed without smelling your shirt and missing you like crazy.”

“Say the word ‘spontaneity’ again and I’ll fucking cut you….”

"Whoa!!!...let's not get crazy here, OK?...I just.."

"Did you really just call me crazy? Seriously...as I lay here on the couch, trying to relax for the first fucking time tonight....did you really...just...call..me...crazy? Cause if you did, I just want to be clear and understand correctly that you thought long and hard before selecting that word. I want to be sure, that in your tiny little brain, hidden deep within the beer, the Jennifer Anistons, the baseball, the football, the masturbating....that that's what you really thought was the smartest thing to say to me?"

"I uhhh.....yesterday we.....on Friday I was uhh.....Honey!!! I'd like to volunteer to make the kids' lunches and bathe them and put them to bed for an entire week....just for you!!!"

I sat there for what seemed like at least 30 minutes..but it was only 15 seconds before she said..."Oooohhh....I spontaneously just remembered we're out of peanut butter for the kids' lunches!!!"

It was raining that night when I had to run to the grocery store...and I have to give it to her...it was pretty spontaneous......