IIT1569_c

Taika in Blue, Klaus Haapaniemi for Iitala


It’s still tomorrow, today. At least by my clock.

Where did my day go? There is something about recovering from a cold. I find myself racing to catch-up on everything  that piled up while I sat on the couch sipping Diet Coke with lime and declaring my imminent death.

Diet Coke with lime. Two things on that. First, it really can cure the common cold. And second, how cool is my husband for keeping me supplied while I languished on the couch? A girl gets parched declaring her imminent death! You really have to speak up around here, cause, no one’s paying much attention to the hypochondriac  couch potato with a head-cold.

Speaking of my adorable husband, he really rocked my world today. But more on that in a bit. I just want to put this sentence here so I don’t forget to tell you. He’s AWESOME!

Anyhow, I woke up this morning feeling like, just perhaps, I wouldn’t die today. I managed a work-out, a dash to the fabric store for thread, grocery shopping, finishing an order (sale #199!), plus I downed a lot of  water so you know, potty breaks.  I even found time to be distracted by a window display downtown on my way to buy cupcakes. This china was in the window so of course I went in!

I’ll confess I loitered a bit in that store. It’s full of all these Scandinavian housewares. They have Marimekko and chocolate. And really nice women working there. (As opposed to Joann’s where the people are RUDE!) And it felt good to talk to people and not have to mention my imminent death. *snif snif*

I still haven’t caught up with the laundry, though. But I’m convinced that if the gods had been drinking Diet Coke with lime they would have been smarter and Sisyphus would have been doing laundry, not pushing some dumb rock. It’s never-ending. No point in getting to the top of the  hill, people, it’s just going to pile up again.

That’s not to say you shouldn’t do your laundry. Clean underwear is next to godliness.

Me: “Uh, putting your dirty laundry basket in the middle of the laundry room floor is NOT the same as doing laundry, G!”

BW: “It is in my world!”

That child is a sassmouth!

Two things on this child. The first is, I’m actually doing ok with this transition of his. Before I got sick I meant to tell you all that. If I’m writing about it, then I’ve worked through whatever issues I might have had. “In process” stuff doesn’t make the blog. It goes to therapy or spiritual direction or coffee time with IZ. But, of course, I got sick and couldn’t reassure you that I’m really very excited to be moving into the next phase of our relationship.

Which leads me to the second thing about that child. He’s the reason I’m sick.  The kid got this stoopid head-cold from his friend last week—but he kept on turning on the light to the downstairs movie room with his mouth.

That’s right, my uber smart, super sophisticated, really cool but slightly germaphobic kid used his germy mouth to turn on a light-switch. And you know I went downstairs several times before I was told about this nasty habit.

Me: “I’m pretty sure I’m going to die.”  (sip, sip, mmm, diet coke)

IZ: “So, I have to tell you. Earlier tonight, as we were going downstairs to watch TV, I told the kid, ‘Kid, just go down, I’ll grab the door’ and what does he do? He reaches over and turns on the light in the stairwell with his mouth! I’m like, “KID! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” and he tells me his hands aren’t free and he didn’t want to drop his laptop, so he uses his mouth.”

Me: “Oh. To the hell. NO! He did not!”

IZ: “He did! And I told him, “I had the door, I would have got the light too!”

Me: “Kid, this is so going on my blog!”

Which brings me to my placeholder up there. I needed that because I don’t have a good segue to tell you JUST how awesome my husband.

He’s so awesome, he’s been stalking me. Well, my store. I hit 198 sales about 9 days ago; he’s been quietly watching and waiting for my 199th sale so he could go in, buy a candle for his mom, and be my 200th sale.  I know, nice, right? Before I could stop him, there was the invoice, paid for—it’s to be sent to his mom when she comes home from her vacation. She’s been spending a lot of time on her own, because his dad has been traveling on business and it’s looking like she’ll be alone again right after they return. So, he thought she might like something nice and he’s just been biding his time to be #200. Two hundred sales! I pretty excited. Especially since, earlier this week, I thought I was going to die.

No, you may not have him. But I might loan you the light-switch licking kid. He kinda does laundry.

And good news, people. I’m going to live. And it’s still tomorrow, today. By my clock, anyhow.