I'm hiding on the computer. Don't let the bathroom see me. I'm supposed to be cleaning it.
Shhhh!
I already got the clutter out but it wants it's tub and shower washed and it's floor and sink scrubbed.
And once that's all done, it's sister bathroom on the first floor would like my attention, too.
I really wish these bathrooms could just clean themselves!
Word to all you Inventors: Self-Cleaning Bathrooms.
I've called the pediatrician for an afternoon consult in regards to my son's stomach issues. Hoping for a referral to a GREAT pediatric nutritionist so that we can figure out just what in the heck it is that makes my son sick to his stomach. Although, whatever it is may be exacerbated by the thought of school looming dead ahead.
Now there's a word, exacerbated. I never heard of that word until one day, when I was typing some letters for my dad, which I always seemed to be doing, he used that word in a sentence to the Social Security Administration. Told them that if they didn't leave him alone and just give him the money he was supposed to get, money that they took from him in the first place!, that they were only exacerbating his condition (which was MS)
I like to use me that word now and again, in memory of my letter writing dad. The dude wrote letters (that I had to type type type for him) to everyone. Newspapers, magazines, social security offices, offices of government cheeses, etc. When I went off to school, with my little electric typewriter in it's carrying case, I'd find envelopes filled with handwritten letters and stories in my little dorm room mailbox more than once a week, to type for him. I still have a whole packet of handwritten stories of his. And carbon copies of the letters I wrote. I even have some newspaper clippings and a magazine of his published stuff.
You'd'a'thunk that all that letter writing and story writing would have exhausted him, thereby exacerbating his condition.
Anywho. We've got an appointment with the pediatrician for this afternoon. An anti-exacerbating consult.
Also, I'll be running my oldest over to the DMV to take his permit test. Fingers crossed. Although, the boy thinks he can just stroll in a they'll hand him his permit because he's charming or something because, dude, the kid doesn't think he needs to study for it.
But for right now, those damn bathrooms need my attention. It's always something!
11:35 a.m. - August 28, 2006
Recent entries:
just wondering - June 16, 2012
10 Years of Blogging - October 31, 2010
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