| kalanamak |
I've heard stories of the child who, around bedtime, mentions they have
to be Julius Ceasar in a play in the morning, but the Hub sprang a last
minute plea for a dish for 10 toddlers with the theme "vegetables". I
have just nothing in the house. I ended up making WW macaroni elbows
with finely minced, soaked sweet onion, some thawed peas, peeled and
minced bell pepper and minced romaine with an olive oil and verjus
dressing lightly applied.....
But that was only the end of my day, all having something to do with the
alimenary canal. First, I work in a huge mental hospital and the
residents loathe to admit they are sick for fear of being put on
"medical hold", AKA you can't go out and smoke. Gastroenteritis is
making the rounds, and in the attempt to appear healthy, they were
THROWING UP IN EACH OTHER'S ROOMS.
Second, I come home to my cedar log house, whick often smells like cedar
when the sun has been on it. I take 1.5 steps in the house and think
"hamster cage". It smells like cedar shavings and rodentia. I look
around for evidence of doggy incontinence, but it doesn't smell
carnivorish. After a mad hunt and some self-query on my sanity, I
discover that pappa's attempts at potty training led to a 2 year old's
turd being laid under the bed. Me and my killer nose.
Third, after dinner, Hubby developed one of his attacks of Killer
Hiccups, the kind that sound like a loud gulping spasm, followed
directly by a groan, and indirectly by eructation. It went on for TWO
HOURS, until I finally threatened divorce if he didn't take my often
offered advice: a tablespoon of sugar (or salt or sand), bolted down.
It worked immediately, but got the feeling he wasn't very grateful.
Time for bed.
blacksalt
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