To be sick this kind of sick is what I wished for the other night.
One of my goals for this year is to be more on top of cleaning. It's not that I don't clean the house. I do. But I always feel like I am playing catch up. Over Christmas break I found a cleaning chart on Pinterest. I will elaborate on this chart in another post, but it breaks down which chore to do on which day. It is so easy to follow, but I started off on the wrong foot with it last week. Everything went downhill after that.
By Saturday night everything had caught up with me. My mind was all over the place and I had trouble focusing on just one thing. I finally said "Fuck it" and plopped my butt on the couch with a pack of chocolate chip cookies and some episodes of Big Bang Theory. I stayed up much later than I should have. Finally at 1 in the morning I decided to call it a night. Morning?
When I reached the fifth or sixth step going upstairs, I smelled it. Shit. That's what I said and yes, that's what it was. I was hoping and praying that my son had gotten up to use the bathroom and did a poor job of wiping himself. Needless to say, I was wrong. Oh so wrong.
You see, my boy has issues with certain dairy products. He can drink milk, he can have ice cream, he can eat a piece of cake covered with frosting. But too much of a good thing and we're in trouble.
Once I got to my son, who happened to be sleeping on the floor, I realized just how much chocolate strawberry milk he had been drinking the past few days. Obviously the answer was too much. Cleaning up that mess and having to give my boy a bath was the last thing I wanted to do at 1 in the morning.
What I can't figure out is how the husband didn't realize what had happened way before 1 in the morning. When I questioned him, he replied that his sinuses have been ridiculously stuffed up.
And that, my friends, is why I wish I was sick too. And maybe that the husband wasn't so he could have dealt with that mess.