Urban Drool

The days of Tuesday, November 21, 2006 through Monday, November 27, 2006 have a name.

Tis' not "Thanksgiving Week, 2006"

But instead, "A Very Lumi Holiday, 2006: The Vomitorium Tour"

Things I've learned:

Baby barf is bright pink if the baby has recently eaten cranberry jelly.

I have exceeded my own personal record for highest number of poops in one day (a.k.a. "the big 17")

If your baby has barfed more than 8 times in 12 hours, and is unable to keep even 1 ounce of water down, you're supposed to go to the hospital.

The organic, free range, $42 turkey that was supposed to be the tastiest damn thing this side of Sara Lee turned out to be the dryest, most taste-less thing I have put in my mouth in recent memory.

Men are the biggest fucking wimps imaginable. The same ailment that I had to suffer through (still managing to run to drug stores and empty the dishwasher and dish out soup and pour and administer Pedialyte) had my Boy and my father bed ridden and instructing me what to do with their remains, for lo', they were indeed soon to perish.

You can indeed launder your entire household's stock of bed sheets, towels and blankets in one day. Twice.

You will in fact go out and buy a Christmas tree, all by yourself, when you should really be fucking resting and recovering, becuase your husband really, really, really wants a Christmas tree. That day. But is too sick to go with you to get it. And you go and get it. So that he can spend the rest of the day in the bedroom (with the lights off, and the space heater going full blast), totally ignoring the very nice tree which you dragged in and set up in the living room.

You will not get (too) angry with him about the immediate aforementioned, due to the fact that he has a 101.5 degree temperature, a sinus infection, and a prescription for antibiotics from his doctor.

But you still bitch about it on your blog.

Happy Thanksgiving. I think next year the baby and I will go to Aruba instead.