Day 33: The Dr. & The Bag

Over the past few days, there has been a looming illness around Chez Stoneford. The mini-humans in this house have been spared, and I, the co-Mayor of Not-so-Pleasantville, after days still sound like mix of Bette Davis and Emma Stone. However, Mr. Bacon Bringer Homer has been struck down, run over, and beaten to a pulp by those little micro-organisms that some people feel they must share.

Yesterday, was Doctor Day.
Mr. Bacon Bringer Homer had an appointment.
Baby Gator had an appointment.
Monk had an appointment.
I, was the chauffeur.

Preface: Kleenex in hand, heavy breathing, watery eyes, dark circles under the watery eyes and weak

Dr.: So Mr. Bacon Bringer Homer, tell me your symptoms.
Mr. BBH: I feel like I got hit by a truck, a big truck! My body hurts. I can't breathe. My lungs are trying to escape through my mouth. My nose has gone running.
Dr.: Well, obviously, there is something going on. (Look of bewilderment strewn across her face)
Me not thinking allowed: Really Doc, you must have been last in your class.

So, 1 sick husband, 2 bouncy children, running to 2 doctors offices, 1 pharmacy, cleaning up after the disaster our children made of the living room, this SAHM was exhausted. However, just like every AS SEEN ON TV product...BUT WAIT... I had volunteered to clean the adoption center for Alley Cats and there was a tornado watch in effect.

I know, I am a horrible person. I left my children home with Mr. Bacon Bringer Homer to go and clean the center. I knew that I could do it way quicker with out them and the impending potential danger of having my kids on the road was worth extending Mr. Bacon Bringer Homer's agony. Fortunately, the Gator slept the whole time, and Monk behaved, but I got a phone call.

Mr. BBH: Are you almost done.
Me: yep.

Dreading the kids are trying to kill me.....

Mr. BBH: Can you pick up food.
Me: Whew

We had yet to pick up take out since our October consumerism challenge.

Me: ok.

So tired that the thought of eating dinner wasn't even in my realm of thought.

Me: What do you want?
Mr. BBH: Something greasy, really greasy. How about Wendy's?

So, having just started antibiotics that can mess your "system" up, you want "Really Greasy" for supper! Ok. Have at it.

I walk through the door with a bag of supper and Monk comes running up.
Monk:  (a little excited) Mommy did you bring luu-nch?
Me: I brought supper.
Monk: (even more excited and squealing) Is it in the BAG! Is it McDonalds? Did you bring me French Fries?

Poor kid and hubby hadn't had take out in 47 days! So exhaustion won yesterday, but it was worth the excitement. Yep I keep telling my tired worn out butt that. Hopefully all will be back to normal here in a few more days!