no record of wrongs & a little pink frog

I need to provide a little background by saying that FirstHusband stabbed himself with a steak knife while attempting to separate frozen fish a few months ago – minutes before I ran water over the fish to separate it.

So, I’m sick. I’ve had a sinus infection for nearly two weeks. Eleven days after starting the first round of antibiotics (and one day after finishing the antibiotics), I have a sinus infection AND bronchitis. My doctor is writing the latest prescriptions when he asks, “Do you have good insurance?” Then he hands me one and says, “This will kill anything.” That, along with another one for an oral steroid and some free samples to combat the symptoms and he says, “These may keep you awake, so take some Ambien if you have trouble” (free samples from the previous visit). All these medications have me wondering about side effects, so I sit down with a box of tissues to read the fine print for each of them. It’s Friday night and FirstHusband asks, “Can you have wine while you are taking all these medicines?” Surprisingly, yes. “As long as I don’t do anything dangerous, like drive or try to separated frozen fish with a steak knife.”

FavoriteSon, sitting at the table, devouring the remaining fried rice from dinner doesn’t miss a beat. Without looking up, he says, “Keeps no record of wrongs.” To which his dad replies, “That’s RIGHT!”

That’s what you get when you combine a smart aleck kid with Christian school. Who knew he would turn the Bible against me! His own mother!

Meanwhile, PinkGirl has verbally confirmed she lives in her own little world. She came home from school with a little pink, rubber frog which she “bought” from the “Treasure Box” for the bargain price of 10 “Fuzzies” (little furry pom poms kindergartners receive for good behavior). While talking to Gram on the phone later that afternoon, she said, “I got a new pet frog. It’s plastic, but its real in my world.”

Later, she was taking a bath with the frog and a host of other water resistant toys and character bottles of bubble bath. Since we don’t have a pool, she like to fill the bathtub with water and play, letting cold water out and adding warm every 20 to 30 minutes. I was (still sick) piled under the covers in my room, watching TV. Every once in a while, she would call out, “Mom?” “Yeah, honey.” “What’s the name of my frog again?” “Rosanna.” And then she’s off in her own little world again – until she forgets the name of the frog. Again.