Crazy Night

Some days are naturally more crazy than others. Today, as usual, was one of those. We helped Steve's brother, Jeremy move yesterday. Knowing their fridge would be empty, pans packed, and pantry still in boxes, I invited them over for dinner. My brother and his wife were also there. After dinner, we sat down to play games. It was then that it happened.

Maddie walked up to me and said, "Mom, what are these spots?" I looked at her and said, "Uhm, maybe flea bites." She said, "They aren't chicken pox?" I took a second look, knowing about the recent outbreak at her elementary school. Sure enough, though vaccinated, she had two on her arm, one on her tummy and one on her face. Hand, foot and mouth disease? No, in the wrong place.

I turned to Ella, my pregnant sister-in-law, "Uhm, Ella, you had chicken pox didn't you?" She replied, "Yes, but only thirteen. The doctor said I could get it again." Great.

We checked WebMD. After discovering that Ella had only a two percent chance of having a baby with a defect if she came down with the disease, I reassured her by saying, "Isn't that about the odds anyway?" Nice. Matt wasn't thrilled.

Needless to say, the party quickly broke up and everyone went home. We are hoping that Ella doesn't show up with any spots in the next two weeks.

Then it was time to put the kids in bed. Poor Maddie, no child would go near her, even though they have been around her for the past few days. Max has a cold right now and his symptoms are worse. The only thing Maddie has is five itchy spots. They have all had the shot, but then, they reason, so has Maddie.

I went upstairs to put Max in bed. If you don't lay by him for a few minutes, he yells until you do. So I laid by him for about 20 seconds before he said, "That's enough." and then pushed me. Unfortunately his push was smack dab in my eye. I cried out in pain. I told him that he could just tell me to move, he didn't need to push me. He said, "Well, you wouldn't move." His push came at exactly the same time as his statement. Tomorrow, I will just have to read his mind.

Then, as I was leaving, Max said, "My tummy is hungry." I told him to tell his tummy to go to sleep. "It can't. It's rumbling." I told him that his tummy should have ate his dinner. He said, "My tummy didn't like dinner." I said, "Maybe you should tell your tummy to like dinner." He replied, "My tummy only likes bread and milk." I got tired of the tummy talk and told him he could eat double breakfast in the morning. He said, "I want one hundred breakfasts."

So, this is what happens when you try to mess with time. An extra hour means extra trouble!