Frogs, Snails & Puppy Dog Tails? THIS Is What My Little Boys Are Made Of

As we found out last night, not even the power of Rock can cure a stomach bug. Oh, it can trick you into thinking you're cured, but when the dust settles and your air guitar is smashed to smithereens, you can just curl your rockin' self up with that 2.8 L Rubbermaid container you've become such good friends with these past two days, 'cause baby, not even Statue of Liberty glasses can help this look any better.

While I was "out of the office," entertaining (for the second time) the oh-so-definitely guiltiest of the guilty pleasures, Edward Cullen, Cable got sick again. And again. And again. When I got home, he was a limp little noodle on the couch. I got him into my bed and prepared for another long night, only this time, I had to go to work the next morning. Yuck.

Sometime around 1:00 am, it let up, and he was able to stay asleep. I slept that weird kind of sleep where you're still aware of everything going on around you, and every sound and every movement wakes you up long enough to confirm that nothing's happening, or in this case, no one is about to hurl on your bed.

Needless to say, Cable was no longer on the passenger list for the return trip to school. And first thing this morning, Parker canceled his reservation, having figured out sometime during the night that if he stayed behind, he'd be around for screenings #12 and #13 of Speed Racer (see next post).

So I was at school without the boys today. On the bright side, I got there 15 minutes earlier than usual and got a front row parking spot, but, like most everything in the world now -- not as fun when they're not with me. While my class was outside before lunch, their classroom door opened and the kids started running out onto the playground. For a split second, I got excited, because it's one of my favorite times of the day, like a special extra treat. Watching them shoot out that door, see that I'm outside too, and come running full speed to me... (they'll still do that when they're 15, right?) Then I thought out loud, "Oh, wait. They're not here today..."

My drive home was ridiculously quiet, with no stories to hear, no questions to answer, no penis talk to silence. I listened to Flight of the Conchords without editing the naughty parts, but missed their singing along in the backseat. (I may drive somewhere with them tomorrow just for that).

So when I got home, I was overjoyed to see them. Walking in the door, I was puzzled to find no boys in sight. Knowing that they always nap for Keith (*glaring grin*), I asked him in that "Pleeeeease tell me they aren't still sleeping at 5:15 pm" sort of tone, "Where are they?" "They're hiding." Oh thank God. No one is sick.

Cable is much improved since this time 24 hours ago (note to self: ask Daddy what kind of music he played for them). He made my whole week tonight when he said, "Mommy? Will you come sit with me and talk with me?" ("Ok, baby... Do you want a pony too? A four-wheeler? 'Cause, right now, I'd get it for you.")

We sat down and covered up in a blanket and I asked him, "So how was your day?" And his reply, well... my brother and sister-in-law will never hear EITHER of their girls say this:

"Umm, good. We watched Speed Racer, and we ate lunch, and we did a good job napping, and Parker came into the bathroom while I was pooping and he bothered me when I wasn't done, and *giggle giggle* he tooted on Oscar *giggle*, and then I had two cups of Sprite and I didn't throw up. And we had a snack, and we watched Speed Racer again, and then I had to go poop again, but this time it was squirty poop."

"You had squirty poop? Did you have it a lot or just one time?"

"Just one time. Now I'm all done. I have just regular poop now."