Sunday, September 27, 2009
Operation Dental Drop…Day 2
Note to self…buy bananas; I hear the potassium helps with leg cramps.
I’m not sure when last night ended and today began because just about the time I started to drift off the muscles in my calves would tighten and I’d jump out of bed and run around the room howling. The last one happened at around 5:00 this morning and I must have made some serious noise because Charley came out of his room to see what the commotion was all about.
“Mom, you okay?” he said, wiping his eyes.
“I’m okay son; I just had a Charley horse.”
He said, “Huh?”
I said, “A Charley horse is a leg cramp.”
Uh oh, wrong word alert.
“I NOT a horse,” he said, “and, and, and, don’t call me my name!”
“Sorry son.” I kissed him on the forehead and said, “Everything’s fine, now go back to bed.
So. I guess you could say the day started off on the wrong foot.
It did, however, end on a great note.
We decided to get a hotel room near the hospital to make things easier on us in the morning and to keep you-know-who, the Phantom of the fridge from food after midnight.
We arrived in Knoxville early evening and I’m taking Charley for a swim in the pool. I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt because heaven forbid anyone should see me in a swim suit, and this is proof that I love my kid. I wouldn’t do this for anyone, I wouldn’t do this for Brad, I wouldn’t do this if you paid me a million dollars, but for him? The body is now in the pool.
He’s got on his red swim trunks and is asking for his blue goggles. I tried to think of everything but I have forgotten the goggles and he will just have to keep his eyes closed like the rest of us.
We swim for a long time and he’s having some fun but not as much fun as if he had his blue goggles. He says his eyes are burning and I tell him that’s the chlorine in the water and to keep his eyes shut, and to stop splashing me or I’m getting out.
After a while of him dragging me around the pool by my feet he decides he’s had enough and it’s off to the next adventure which will include his Dad going to McDonald’s and bringing back a milkshake, chocolate of course.
This might be a good time to explain that he can’t eat after midnight.
“Son, you better eat a bunch tonight because as you can see there’s no refrigerator here and you won’t be able to eat anything in the morning.
He says, “Yes I are, Mom.”
I say, “No you aren’t, and this goes back and forth for a few minutes, when he finally says, “Fine, I no eat the morning.”
“Well, I think he understands,” I say to Brad, and I look over at my wonderful son who is stretched out on the bed with the clicker in one hand and a chicken nugget in the other.
He does not know it but I’ve slipped him a sedative to help him sleep through the night and now he’s sitting up on the bed playing with his DVD player, laughing and talking to me and says “You’re my mom,” and somewhere mid sentence he starts to wobble back and forth, and oops, there he goes, he’s fallen over and his head has landed on the pillow.
It appears the night stalker is down for the count.
I kiss him on the forehead, cover him up, and whisper, “See ya in the morning, son.”
Life is good.
Gosh I hope I don’t have a Charley horse tonight.