Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Kinda better

Today I took Ab to the PA where we learned that she not only does not have swimmer's ear, but she also doesn't have a ruptured ear drum. Yay to both. That particular ear drum is pinkish, but not severely. Not sure what the pain is from, though. Normally I won't give the kids antibiotics for an ear infection because they usually clear up on their own in the same amount of time that an antibiotic would take to work and I think amoxicillin is WAY overprescribed, but this time I conceded and filled the prescription for the antibiotic and also the one he gave me for more of the precious, precious ear-numbing drops that probably have more value on the black market than free indian cheese. She's suffered enough these few weeks, what with The Rash to End All Rashes and all. Although, I'm sure the amoxicillin will do nothing more than chip away at her immune system and she'll come down with Typhoid or something, the way things have gone in my life lately. Because it's all about me and not about the lizard-child I now own.

So after the office visit and then a run to the pharmacy, we picked up Tater's Tots for a morning of swimming. Except that was cut short due to incredibly cold water and no sun to warm it up, then rain storms. They swam an hour, though, and the fact that their lips were blue at that point told me it was time to warm them up with some yummy, delicious McFood. I am addicted to the Miami McD's sweet tea. No one else's - every other McDonald's I've ordered sweet tea from sucks big ones, but Miami has it down pat. It's magic in a paper cup with a lid and a straw.

Now all five munchkins are playing quietly in the back of the house. The Tots are going on vacation with their daddy this week and I thought I'd get in some quality time with them before they go, but turns out I was just the chauffer, the lifeguard, the person who bought the Happy Meals and now I am just that lady in the front of the house crying quietly because they're ignoring me, but hey, that's life.

We're showing our rent house tonight. Fingers crossed they aren't homicidal maniacs, cat people, dog people, iguana people, striped feral African chinchilla people, smokers, karaoke singers or non-bathers. And that they can afford the rent.

The next round at Write in the Thick of It is underway. (And it's not too late for you to join in on the fun!) This time we left off the pop culture references, but did go with assigned genres for our stories. Fortunately, because she may or may not have threatened The Accounting Firm of Paul, Hillbilly Mom didn't draw "historical romance" again. It's bad when the blogging hillbillies allegedly threaten the blogging rednecks. Like a Hatfields v. McCoys thing via email. I, however, drew literary death - the Soap Opera. Don't get me wrong, I have watched All My Children literally since I was in Kindergarten, but I wouldn't want to be a writer for a soap for love nor money. I guess the way they can keep them running for so long is that they really don't have any rules to follow and the formula is pretty simple - everyone can marry and remarry at will, a person's paternity can come into play when they are well into their middle 30's, children age at freakishly rapid rates, sex is always neat, tidy and no one's naughty bits are ever exposed to the air above a well-tucked sheet. Oh! And everyone has an evil twin that is able to mysteriously come to town during sweeps week. If we had to wait for all those separated-at-birth children of questionable paternity to age normally or if we actually saw someone's saggy boob or stretch-marked hips and ass, the soaps wouldn't have so much success.

So since the kids won't let me join in their reindeer games, I guess I'll go work on the latest chapter in As The Blog Turns. Or One Life to Blog. Hmh. Or maybe All My Blogs? Perhaps The Young and the Blogging? Nah? Okay,well hopefully something better will come to me before Friday's deadline.


Hillbilly Mom said...

Of course I wasn't threatening. I was merely bragging about my new corncob doll, the one with the bright orange knit cap, and the loveley set of pins that the flea market seller threw in with the doll. Pins as big as those that people strap on top of their small SUV in that commercial. And when I play with my new corncob doll, I sing one line from that bread commercial song, "I don't love you much do I?" But only that one line. And sometimes, I take those pins, and just to see if they are sharp, I poke them into my new corncob doll. And since you can't have a doll without a name, I call him the Corny Pa. Now how could that be threatening to anybody?

WHIP's said...

I would LOVE to write for a soap opera. My dream job is to write for the national enquirer. That dead gay alien thing...INSPIRED!!!!

Kay Dennison said...

A little hint for your daughter's ear problem: I found Children's Benadryl (or the generic of it -- really cheap!)worked great! Her ear doc recommended it & she uses it to this day at age 30.

Oh hell, I can't write soaps -- I live one! lol

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