Yesterday we took Nathan to the doctor’s because his cough has become our second child. It has demands like, “Humidify me!” or “Medicate me!” or “Put on America’s Next Top Model Cycle One!” But our first child still jumps and shrieks and has demands of his own but they are not as articulate. It sounds like, “Bah,” “Bgurgggh,” or my favorite, “Mamamamamamama.” The doc prescribed an inhaler with a baby face mask attached. She suggested that the two of us put it on him because babies don’t cooperate. Geez, I didn’t have to go to medical school to know that.
And though he’s not contagious, I think it’s too soon to take him out tonight. So no Halloween for us.
This is not my costume. This is my uniform now that Nathan’s cough has enslaved my ass. And yes, I’ll wear the heels, too.
My breasts look disproportionate, like the rack on Dog the Bounty Hunter’s wife. Have you seen that woman? How does she even walk upright? Damnit! That would have been an awesome costume. All I need is a ratty blond wig and a smoking addiction.
What are you doing tonight?