Things Are Getting Iffy Around Here

Mike is sick. Poor baby. It's only 7:30pm, yet he's been in bed for at least a half hour. As I type this, he is snoring away next to me.

I'm trying to avoid any kind of contact with the man. I do not. I repeat. I do not want to catch it. Whatever "it" is. He's got a sore throat and a stuffy nose. He says he feels like sh**(his words, not mine). I don't know what sh** actually feels like, but I'm guessing it's not nice. Again, I do not want it.

I've tried telling him to sleep in the spare room. We have one now that Tristan is in college. He won't do it. He says I should sleep in there since I'm not sick. I tell him he should since he IS sick. Neither of us is sleeping in there.

I swear, he better stay on his side of the bed. And breathe in the opposite direction. If I wake in the morning with the slightest inkling of a sore throat or stuffy nose, I'm not sure what I'm liable to do.

Hey Honey!

This might be too much information, but it'll give you a little insight into what I deal with on a daily basis around here. Besides, it was kind of funny. Made me laugh, anyway.

It's really hot here. Has been for a couple of days now. In the upper eighties, with high humidity. You sweat just sitting watching TV. I really feel sorry for Mike and Tristan, working in the heat all day long. They come home just burning up and dead tired.

Anyway, Mike comes home from work tonight and takes a shower, thinking it would cool him off some. He gets out of the shower and says, "Hey Honey! I'm so hot, instead of shrinkage, I have hangage!"

Now first off, let me tell you, Mike likes to make up words to suit his point. This is nothing new. But the fact that he decided to share this little tidbit with me out of the blue, and be proud of it, was hilarious!

Things like this come out of his mouth all the time, so I shouldn't be surprised. But, you can't help but laugh when he grabs his chest because he has heartburn and says, "Oh, my scrotum hurts!" He means sternum, but totally thinks scrotum is the correct word. He just shrugs and says, "You know what I mean."

So, this is what I deal with on a daily basis. Some of it is on purpose, some isn't. You gotta love him either way!

Day Twenty of Summer Vacation

I don't know that I'm going to make it through the entire summer. Seriously, I just don't think I can do it.

Rebecca and Timothy are at each other constantly. Arguing, picking, and just generally irritating the hell out of each other. "Stop!" "Don't touch me!" "Quit it!" It's starting to wear on the one nerve I have left.

If I've said, "Knock it off!" once, I've said it a thousand and one times. I think I'm invisible. At least to the children, anyway. Nothing I say registers. Hell, I don't think they even know I'm in the room, yelling at them. They just continue with their meanness toward one another.

Tristan and Mike are the lucky ones. They get to leave every day. They get to go to work and have adult conversations, do work that counts for something, and have a life. I want to go to work. I want to have funny stories to tell my husband at the end of the day.

On the brighter side, tomorrow should be better.....I think. Rebecca left this afternoon for a few days at grandma's house. Tim couldn't go because of baseball practice, but at least there will be no one here for him to fight with. I suppose tomorrow he will be pestering me because he's bored.

Lovely.....