and aNOTHer thing

on the weekend nobody felt exactly lively. Squire Tuck and i decorated for christmas finally on sunday, but mostly i sat around in my jammies putting together a puzzle and reviewing my appreciation of the underrated art of NOTH. whatcha doing? nothing.

on monday Squire Tuck stayed home because he was "sick" and because i'm a parent who believes that if a kid really really doesn't want to go to school, their ability to learn is as hampered as if they were ill, so: stay home. spare the teacher and yourself. by monday afternoon he had upgraded to sick (without scare quotes) and by monday evening he was screaming in pure frustration at Friar Tuck for correcting his pronunciation of some word or another, and i tried to rub his back and he burst into tears from the pain of being touched. ah, genuine sickness, i haven't seen you in a while.

yesterday Squire Tuck felt the christmas spirit of giving and decided to share his illness with me; by 5 p.m. i was weeping on the couch while we passed the tissues back and forth and reminded each other to drink more tea. we watched a bunch of PBS tapes ("in search of myths and heroes"), which was just so supercool. we talked about shangri-la and how although religious wars strike me as ridiculous, it's not like atheists are above it all: the cultural revolution wreaked as much destruction as a holy war. we talked about zeus getting out athena by splitting his skull open, and whether or not a drill would be a good way to drain the sinuses. Squire Tuck thinks not but it's still an option on my table. i cannot go much longer with the mouth breathing, three more days of this and i'll be unable to explain the difference between "it's" and "its" and then how will we buy bread.

Friar Tuck came home at about seven with a full bag of fruit and wine and rum and vegetables. he made this giant vat of vegetable soup and played chess with Squire Tuck and poured rum punches into me until everything, including the mouth breathing, was very very funny, and very sleepy, and i went to bed. and slept! and feel better today, although still unable to breath through my nose.

Squire Tuck's already back in school.

last night i sat in a pile of tissues (one of my 2 disgusting habits) and thought how lucky i am. lucky that i have a kid with whom i can talk about cultural revolutions and splitting headaches. lucky that i have a guy who knows so precisely how to take care of me that i barely need to explain anything. it's the difference between falling off the highwire and bouncing on a trampoline.

Comments

[dawn]

this is a great post. makes me want to trade places for just a minute.

[Randa]

I've just spent the last little while catching up on your blog; it's been a bit since I last visited. I absolutely love how you write. Your 'dressing like a stagehand' line killed me, as my coworker (who lives in pink sweaters) always pokes fun at me in my completely black ensembles (as today). I'm sending her the link to your post. (I branched out myself and purchased brown trousers and a brown sweater last night. Go Earth Tones.)