NOW is the winter of our discontent…sort of…

We are traumatized.  Granted, it doesn’t take much to traumatize us, but we’re traumatized nonetheless.  For two weekends in a row, TGG has managed to call us at the library (or in the vicinity of this illustrious location) to give us bad news of one degree or another.  Neither piece of news has been horrible in the way that bad news can be, but they’ve been bad-enough to be life-altering in the long-run, and unexpected.  Again, not my news to disclose so I can’t really say anything at this time, but both chunks of information have caused the immediate sprouting of gray hairs we didn’t yet have, and both have jolted us into actually saying “what now?” every time TGG calls us.

Last night, because that’s how we address these things, we jokingly told TGG that we’re never going back to the library ever again. He said, quite deadpan, all you have to do is not pick up…I’ll tell you when we’re all together in the same room.  Considering that we’ve been pretty cool about every curve ball he’s sent our way this year (TWO, mind you, in less than two months…there’s got to be a rule SOMEWHERE about that,) that might not be such a bad idea.  Dada suggested that, perhaps, he can stop and grab ice cream, cookies, beer or wine, and some sort of tearjerker movie before coming home to impart more “wisdom” on us…  I said I’ll take the tearjerker movie, but let’s skip all others because I can’t really get comfortable in my jeans these days, and I really do NOT need a drinking problem at this point in my life.

So last Saturday morning and this Saturday morning.  And then Dada said the stupidest thing one can say under the circumstances: what else could possibly go wrong?  The power steering line in the car and the brake rotors, that’s what!  Dada says he’s quickly running out of topics he can address without calamity ensuing: he’s famous for saying “what a beautiful day,” and two seconds later the sky turns dark and we get all sorts of precipitation, thunder, lightning and flooding…  He’s also been told to NEVER mention when we have more money than usual because things start breaking one after another with a great deal of energy and enthusiasm.  Now he cannot say “what else could possibly go wrong?”  Verboten!

At least, my friends, it has stopped being so cold that the wood snaps, and it has snowed in smaller amounts that haven’t interfered with school attendance.  Furthermore, judging by the amount of cat fur I’m finding everywhere, the resident felines are shedding in anticipation of spring.  The downside to this, of course, is that last week the weather prevented me from picking up our vacuum cleaner, and I am simply walking around gathering cat fuzzies wherever I see them.

This, to put it mildly, has been a brutal winter, and it’s not just the weather I’m referring to here.  Yes, we have experienced tremendous cold, ice, snow, and more snow days than any parent can tolerate before starting to develop a twitch.  The weather has been so cold that we are baffled as to how TGG could possibly have been bitten by a tick.  We think, because we are googlers, readers, researchers, that it wasn’t a tick that bit him and sent him promptly to the Urgent Care with a bruise the size of a lemon.  We think, which isn’t much better, that it was a brown recluse spider.  A tick, we argue, would have to burrow for up to three days, and this was an overnight thing…he woke up and there was the bruise, on his hip, and none of the telltale signs of Lyme disease, but that’s the blood test they’re running, and that’s Piece of Bad News #2.

Every room got torn apart in mother’s cleaning frenzy.  Every bed, every corner, every single thing that might appear as it could even remotely harbor the sort of living creature that could bite any of us and cause disease, damage or the mildest of panic attacks.  Nothing.  Whatever it was is gone.  The only things that remain are the course of antibiotics, the ointment, the bruise and the constant fear of some minuscule critter jumping and biting us.

The silver lining in all this is J.  Picture, please, a dinner plate with shrimp, sweet potato fries and avocado salad.  The first thing to get consumed is, surprisingly enough, the avocado, followed by the shrimp and, finally, the sweet potato fries.  In the past, a simple BYE and HAT would have indicated “I’m not eating this…not no how.”  Picture another dinner plate with flank steak pinwheels stuffed with spinach, bacon, Parmesan cheese, and a side dish of pasta in a tomato-pumpkin sauce.  The first thing to go?  The spinach…we thought he was digging through it to get to the bacon, but he was actually yum-yumming his way through the green stuff first.  A breakfast of a mini bagel with one wedge of creamy spreadable cheese, and a veggie omelet is par for the course now, and there isn’t a move to ask for more cheese, or to switch to butter.

The only thing that’s holding us back right now is that the garage has, because of the necessity to move things there in case of weather, become a bit of a mess…J can’t exercise as comfortably as he would like.  This weekend I’m working on getting that cleared up so that we can go back to working out as best suits J’s needs.  Until then, we can’t ALL go in there, but we can still run, do sit-ups, leg-lifts, and so forth.  This garage re-organization is a priority for this weekend, and there’s more snow on the way for then.

So…there you have it.  Winter has been far from kind to us, but most of the unkindness is self-inflicted (or TGG-inflicted,) and the car…well…that’s getting picked up from the garage even as we speak.  J is eating whatever we put in front of him…yes, lentils…and we are all in fairly good health as long as we don’t get ambushed by fang-sporting bugs…

(Full disclosure: I don’t know about insects or bugs, and I’m not going to climb the stairs to ask TGG –who is the resident expert– about this…fangs I wrote, and fangs it stays because that’s the height of melodrama for this day.  Just don’t lets talk about what else can go wrong, right???)


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