Another ear infection. I simply cannot take it. Another missed day of work. Another night of screaming, whining and weeping. And the baby's crying too. Dangerous, general unpleasant thoughts about my child. Oh God of the Mighty Middle Ear Canal, Make It Stop, I Beg You.
After deciding I cannot go to work (again), I open the door to the first beautiful day in months. It's 90 degrees outside and far too early in the season for us to have actually excavated the air conditioner from the shed. The cat has left a deceased mole on the front step, in an effort to siphon attention share from the sickly children.
The toddler wants to know why, why, why does the baby cry? Why does he have a boo boo in his ear? Why is he sick? Why does he cry? Why? Why are we going to the doctor?
The elderly 3-legged dog defecates three feet from the doorstep, in the path I use when carrying said baby and toddler with diaper bag, cel phone, purse and water bottle.
And oh year, watch out for swine flu. It's 8:30 a.m. I am a Bad Mother.
