In the past 48 hours, both of my kids have been down with a stomach bug: Bits was puking on Tuesday, and yesterday it was Bear's turn. Bits was fortunately at home with the bug hit, but Bear was at school - so someone had to go pick him up and spend the afternoon with him. That may be the subject of another, heavier post later ... right now I just need to tell someone about the interplay between the kids' illness and Mr. Mama.
All afternoon yesterday Mr. J was feverishly blowing up Mr. Mama's phone, hoping she could help out with the sick Bear so that he could get to Lexington for a work appointment rather than me having to leave work early. When she finally called him back - hours having passed - she was in the check-out line at Kohl's. She couldn't help, she was very busy shopping all afternoon - and I know Christmas is coming, but I also know that she has been stockpiling gifts since October. And she has two more weeks until Christmas, and no other obligations in her day time hours. Ahem. Anyway, she was unwilling to come help him out. Fair enough, she's got priorities.
So at 8:10 this morning she sent me an email asking how Bear was doing. I thought this was a very kind gesture since she knew he had been sick, and I wrote back promptly that although he was still upchucking at bedtime, he seemed to have made it through the night and was still sleeping when I left for work at 7:40, bless his little heart.
At 10:26, I got a call from Mr. J. He said, "I deliberately left my glasses in the truck so I could come back out and tell you about this. You will not believe it. She showed up at the house at 9:45 with her @$$ on fire telling me to get the kids out to the car, and she wanted me to drive since we were already going to be late. She made an appointment for them to get their Christmas pictures made."
Y'all. Two kids who have been puking everywhere for the past two days. And I know she did not have that appointment made before they got sick because she was just asking me on Tuesday if she could take them over the weekend. (And I said maybe, depending on what time she could get an appointment, so this wasn't her only chance.)
You know everyone who comes to that photography studio in the next week is picking up the bug. I would warn you off by name, but none of y'all would ever be tacky enough to take a child there in the first place. It's awful. Fake fireplace backdrops, fake pine cones. These photos are going to be a rich treasure trove some day when Bits and Bear encounter Awkward Family Photos.
As always, completely oblivious to the needs or interests of anyone other than herself.
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