I hate Mondays.
If Pookah is to get sick, it’s always on a Saturday or Sunday. That way, it ends up that I have to take him to the doctor when I get off from working a 12 hour night shift Sunday night.
My mother is coming tomorrow, and I needed to clean and grocery shop today. So Murphy’s Law would state that Pookah would end up sick.
With a double ear infection and “kinda sorta” asthma( medical term, really).
So, I run around all morning with a whiny, tired, feverish child after rushing home from working one of the most horrible shifts ever. Then, get him home, get him to nap for 2 hours, then entertain him for the rest of the evening, deal with the EXTREME hyperness( is that a word?) that came with having a breathing treatment, and then struggle to put him to sleep.
( note to self, give Pookah evening breathing treatment at LEAST 3 hours before bedtime).
I come to my bedroom and randomly say I’m hungry. Said Husband continues to play Madden and randomly asks what I want. I don’t care.
30 minutes later, he’s still playing Madden.
Now, I’m dead tired. I mean, I’m practically delirious over here. I haven’t slept but 2 hours in the last 24, 12 of those hours were killer hours at work, and the other 12 were spent dealing with a sick toddler, who half of the time whines, the other half runs around like a chicken with it’s head cut off.
All I wanted was for someone to get me dinner.
And he played Madden.
I warned him earlier that I wasn’t going to cook. You would have thought that common sense would lead him to bring something home with him.
Noooooooo. Too much like right.
In the end, I ended up with a bowl of cereal.
Just as I put my spoon in, he wanders downstairs talking about he is going to get fish.
And seems completely thrown when I jump down his throat.
He keeps wanting to compare our experiences.
“Oh, I didn’t get hardly any sleep last night.”
But it was in your bed. Not my fault you didn’t go to sleep when Pookah did.
I got 2 hours.
I’m tired. I came upstairs before I lost my mind. because this shit is getting old.
I’m going to bed.
Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day.