Clothing Optional Day

Boy, that got your attention, didn't it? Ha. I didn't actually, technically, mean an ALL clothing optional day. Just some clothing.


On Sunday, I decided to do nothing. Aside from the normal things that required doing like cooking and laundry and Ebay shipping, I basically relaxed, read magazines and watched an On Demand movie on TV. I decided this sort of day did not require outside clothing.


I stayed in my pajamas and robe for most of the day, then took a nap. (This is my kind of day.) After my nap, I took a relaxing bubble bath and changed into clean pajamas. I'm not a complete slob, after all. I did stay clean.


It was kind of like a sick day. Only not sick. Like a sick day when you wake up with a headache and call in sick, but when you wake up a couple of hours later - it's gone. And you have the rest of the day at home. And it's kind of cool in the house but the sun is shining in through the blinds and you make some soup for lunch and eat it with your magazine propped up behind your bowl. And later you pop some popcorn and sit on the couch with a cover loosely over your silky pajamaed legs and watch a movie. And you know you don't have to worry about dinner for hours and hours.


And it's pretty fabulous. You should try it sometime.

Life Is Not Fair

I have been sick. Annoyingly, nose-runningly, hacking coughy, heachachy, would like to just remove my head from my body sick.

I kept Wes the first day I got sick and we had a GREAT day together, but later in the afternoon, I started feeling...not quite right. My nose would not stop running. We went to the mall to buy him new shoes...Cars shoes! They light up and have little tiny, fake wheels on the side. They were so cool, I almost wanted a pair for myself. Wes was not incredibly excited. He watched the lights on them for about 10 seconds, then became astonishingly amazed by a light fixture in the ceiling. Doesn't take much to amuse him. So, we got the shoes and then had lunch in the food court and got a big chocolate chip cookie (well, of course we did).

I had prepared for this outing by bringing an entire box of Kleenex because, what with him teething and me having a pre-cold status, we were having a contest to see just who could generate the most snot. I won. So, anyway. We got a big cookie. And let me just say here that, apparently, I have forgotten just how messy a 19-month old can be. I gave him a piece of cookie because even as the generous, give that child whatever he wants! Mimi that I am, I am not going to hand him a cookie as big as his head. Then I broke off a piece for myself, because, really, he can't eat that whole cookie and I should really help him out because I'm just that way, which took, like maybe 30 seconds and I looked back and he had consumed that piece and had chocolate on his face, his hands, the stroller and a couple who were walking by. OK, not really, but it was close. I sighed and gave him some more cookie because, really, why not? He was already a chocolate covered cootie-head, what difference would a few more smears make? We ate one cookie and part of another and I decided that was quite enough cookie for a little boy, so I wrapped up the other one (and I just realized that 3/4 of a cookie is still in my tote bag. Give me just a second...ah, thanks. I'm sure I can type with one hand.) and put it in the bag. That boy is no dummy. He saw me do it. He pointed to the bag with that one index finger he uses to point accusingly and said "Hey, give me that cookie. I saw you put it in there. What do ya think? I'm a dummy?" OK, he may not have used those exact words, but I could see in his eyes what he meant. So I distracted him with something like a straw wrapper (this is easily done at 19 months, not so much at 5 or so, I'll have to refine my tricks) and we went to the bathroom for a sponge bath before we went home to mommy, who would not appreciate me returning a child who strongly resembled a chocolate covered cherry with blonde hair.

ANYWAY. By the time we got home in the late afternoon and had a nap (both of us), I was feeling kinda creaky. I returned the boy to his home (where he clung to my shoulder and actually took a minute of thought before he would go to daddy - he probably thought every day with me would be all party/circus/fair/cotton candy/clowns/candy/and tumbling acrobats just for him - little does he know the highlight of our lives around here is when we eat our dinner off TV trays while watching "Stargate" on DVD) and came home, put on my pajamas and got on the couch where I was dozing when Tom came home. I did drag myself in the kitchen and throw together some dinner - but, really, how hard is it to make Fettuccine Alfredo Chicken with packaged chicken and Alfredo sauce in the jar - but I would say that's the last meal I'm making for a while. I would seriously have liked to be able to remove my head from my body, because the rest of me felt OK, but my head was so stuffed full of mucous, my forehead was actually bulging like some mutant alien was about to burst forth.

But the point of this post. Yes, I have a point. Stop laughing. The point is I had a couple of sick days. And I'm not working. I had sick days when I was on VACATION. This is not the way sick days are supposed to work. You are supposed to get to take a sick day OFF WORK. I had to waste a sick day being really, really sick. How annoying is this. Life is seriously not fair.