Friday, December 2, 2011

Mama Said There'd be Days Like This

This week has been no fun. I have spent the whole week sick. My house is a nuclear disaster. We're fresh out of food. And clean laundry. And I don't care. I've had a killer cold which decided to morph into a killer sinus infection. Oh. Joy. That being said, I decided to load up my little devil child… uh… er… Jossilyn and her very sweet incomprehensibly obnoxious temper and drag her with me to the doctor.

As a tried and true Texan girl (since I was eleven months old), I never NEVER leave the house without lips and lashes. If the mascara and lipstick aren't happenin’, I don't even get the mail. I learned today that exceptions can and will be made on short notice, but one is wise not to point out my transgression. Bad things will happen. Very bad things.

While I was throwing on an old comfy Tri Delta sweatshirt (Jossilyn was fascinated with the "trigles" on my shirt), old comfy jeans (sensing a theme yet?) and old comfy shoes, I let Scooby out to pee. He seemed to sense my mood and got the heck out of dodge. Over an hour later, I realized he still hadn't come home, so I reluctantly headed outside to find him. It’s raining. It’s 40 degrees. I have a fever and a very bad dog.

Twenty minutes(!) of laryngitis-laden screaming-for-Scooby later, I'm soaked, freezing, coughing, fevering and still no sign of my very bad dog. I decided it was time to load Joss in the car and drive around with my shotgun looking for him. Kidding. Sort of.

I headed back to the house to find a hysterical little 21-month-old frantically turning the door knob on the inside. I try the door. Yep. It's locked. She managed to figure out the dead bolt for the first. time. ever. Lucky, lucky me.

So there I stood, wet, cold, sick, exhausted, no dog, no coat, no cell phone, no keys, and locked out. My only chance of rapid entry back into the house lies with a hysterical, hazel-eyed, curly-headed one-year-old blond. I don't like my odds.

Another 20 minutes go by with me on one side of the door, Jossilyn on the other, and the conversation sounded like this:

Me: (screaming through the door) Turn the lock, Jossi! No, not the door knob, the lock. Up here. See the pretty lock? Turn it. TURN IT!!

Joss: (crying, red-faced and snot-nosed) I can't do it, Mommy. I stuck. I can't do it.

(Repeat. Again. And again. And again.…)

I give up and consider my options. It's 10:30 am. I can either call the fire dept. and let them break a window. I can pay a locksmith $100. I can break my own window. I can find a neighbor who’s home. Yep. I like that one the best. Sort of. Did I mention that it's raining, 40 degrees outside and I'm sick???

Just then a very VERY bad dog comes bounding home from down the street. I trudge through the soggy, muddy ground to shut his butt in the dog run where he immediately commences to barking. Loudly. Continuously. I now hate this dog. Kidding. Sort of.

I ran, yes ran, the 1/4 mile to the nearest neighbor who’s home and bang on her door, all the while Jossilyn is running loose, free, and uncontrolled in my house. My neighbor, Kate, comes to the door to find me soaking wet, shivering, covered in mud, and sick as a dog. I've only met the poor woman once before. I ask to use her phone, explain what happened and try to stomp the 10 layers of mud from my weather-inappropriate shoes before tromping through her brand. new. house… as in finished being built two weeks ago.

I called James (who’s 30 minutes away) and begged him to come home because my baby locked me out, thanked the neighbor and ran home. Have I mentioned that it’s raining, 40 degrees outside, I'm sick and don't have a coat??

When I got home, Jossilyn was near frantic. I tried to sing Twinkle Twinkle to her, but I have laryngitis and Scooby is barking at warp speed, so that didn't really go so well. Suddenly, Jossilyn spied my cell phone on the table. I literally watched her eyes change as it suddenly occurred to her that "Mommy can't get to me. I’m unstoppable!” I’ve never seen the human brain connect synapses quite so fast before. It was a scientific marvel.

She made a beeline for my cell phone. I could see that James was calling it, so I'm trying in my sweetest Jossilyn voice to say, “Swipe your finger, Jossilyn. Say hi to Daddy! Swipe your finger.” Uh huh. Sure. She just smiles at me and deletes my CNN app. Lovely. I needed a plan to get her away from the phone and off the very high kitchen chairs.

I brilliantly decided to head for the door that leads into the game room. It worked. She followed me. Assessing her new surroundings, she quickly decided the most fun thing in the room is my iMac. She commences to pounding on the keyboard, hitting who knows what, while I'm screaming from outside the door, “NO TOUCH, Jossilyn! Do you want a spanking?? NO TOUCH!!” She was clearly concerned by my threats because she turned and waved at me saying, “I pay (play), Mommy! See me pay? Fun, Mommy! FUN!”

Crap.

I ran back to the kitchen window. She followed me once again, but this time decided that it would be cool to scoot her high chair across the kitchen floor for a little look-see at what's on the counter tops. She found M&Ms. A whole bowl of ’em. Now she’s smiling and waving saying, “Mmmmm!! Choc choc!! Yummy, Mommy! It’s good choc choc!”

I must have looked a fool out there screaming, “No touch!! Bad girl! No choc choc!” I don't think I mentioned before that it’s raining and 40 degrees outside and I've been out there an HOUR!!!

James did finally arrive home and I did finally get back inside. Jossilyn was quite proud of herself. I debated for a few minutes on whether I should still head for the doctor or drown my sorrows in a margarita. I opted for the doctor who gave an oh-so-pleasant shot in my backside and a script for pills the size of a small cat.

I'm going to bed now to forget this day ever happened and if you call me tomorrow before, oh… say… noon… I will hunt you down like a dog. Just sayin’.


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