fever games

Hooray we’re all sick!  I knew this was coming but I never imagined it would be so gross. There’s enough snot in this house to fuel a snotmobile driving cross-country, east to west coast, and back again.  I know there is no such thing as a car powered by human snot but if there were I could open a fueling station in my living room.

I don’t know if the fever earlier this week fried Joey’s brain or if I’m just delirious from lack of sleep, but this kid has been doing some weird shit around here today and I have to keep reminding myself that he is only a year old and he is sick and strangling him is not the answer.  He hasn’t been interested in playing with his toys and has instead created some fun new games that mostly involve self-injury and whining.

Puzzle concussion.  This one is simple.  You just walk around holding a wooden puzzle base out in front of you and every few minutes stop, tap the base against your forehead until there’s a solid thump and then smile and keep walking. Joey did this about ten times this morning, just walking around in the living room in circles, slamming a puzzle into his head.  A better mother would have taken the puzzle away but he was enjoying himself and when he is happy he is QUIET AND NOT HANGING FROM MY PANTS WHINING.

Toss the oatmeal and scream for pizza!  Joey wouldn’t eat his breakfast this morning.  Overnight he seems to have developed a hatred for oatmeal.  As I approached his face with a spoonful of delicious oatmeal, he’d scream, throw his hands up to cover his face, knocking the spoon out of my hands and into the curtains.  We did this three times and then I figured it probably had to do with his nose being stuffy, so I didn’t push it and just gave him some milk.  A half hour later I am scrunched up in the corner of the kitchen in front of the microwave, trying to cram a cold piece of pizza down my throat so I can take some Advil when Joey, sensing that mama is happy for a moment, comes flying into the kitchen and hangs off the bottom of my pants whining for my food until I give him a bite.  And then another bite.  And then another until all that’s left is crust covered in boogers.

Walk the door.  This one is another simple game.  Go to the basement door and walk it back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…until you push too hard and it latches.  Then scream until mama drags her sick body off the couch and opens it again for you.  Repeat until it gets boring, then growl and chew the hinges.

Fuck the cheerios!   He was screaming for ten minutes, that kind of scream that cuts through your soul, and I couldn’t figure out what he wanted so after trying everything, and before taping his mouth shut, I decided he was hungry and held out a handful of cheerios.  He took one look at them, wound up, and smacked the bottom of my hand, sending the cheerios flying through the air and all over the kitchen floor.  Then I swear he sneered at me before he walked away still screaming.  And I have to be honest, if anyone else in the world tried that shit with me, I would’ve grabbed the little bitch, pinned them to the floor and shoved those fucking cheerios down their throat.  Instead I just sat on the kitchen floor in a pool of cheerios and thought of ways to rupture my own eardrums.

Brush the world!  Find mama’s belly button has evolved into a game of press my drooly toothbrush into mama’s belly button while she is trying to rest, and then brush her belly good, side to side and up and down, making sure to remove all plaque.  Then on to the kitties, who love having their faces cleaned and don’t mind at all a toothbrush rammed into their eyes while they sleep on the couch.

Stagger and scream.  Babies get clumsy when they’re tired and sick.  The kid has been staggering around like a drunk all morning and tripping on everything, falling down and then crying about it like he doesn’t have EIGHT INCHES OF DIAPER PADDING TO SHIELD HIS BUTT.

TV off/TV on. This one is pretty self-explanatory.  But the real key to mastering the game is knowing that precise moment when it’s best to abruptly end the program.  You do not turn the TV off during a commercial.  You do it at an important moment, like when they’re just about to start the final dance in Dirty Dancing.

It’s all rubbish!
Things I have found in the trash this morning:
Tivo remote
my socks
child’s toothbrush
cell phone
my new Napoleon Dynamite pen
cat collar
stuffed duck

You wouldn’t mind, but today is my birthday.  And the kid knows it because I sang it to myself this morning while I carried him downstairs at 2am for another round of nose drops and suctioning.  I have to keep remembering that there is a positive side to today.  Instead of lying in my bed healing my sick body, I am burning massive calories.  And I don't care how sick I am, I am not wasting my babysitter tonight.  I am going out like a normal human being where I will eat dinner without a person hanging from my leg and then I will drink enough wine to erase this horrible day.