Weekend Entertaining the Dogs of Hell Amongst Other Things

It Was Okay--I Guess if You Like Drunk Guys

Last weekend a few of Rainbird's friends came for a visit and it was an eclectic mix of friends we only see on a limited basis, and others we would see more frequently. One such friend has a wife two months away from delivering their first child. That just made me want to scream at him, what the hell are you doing here? In any event he's completely delusional about how much a child will change his life and even said that since the baby is squirming around so much they've gotten used to the lack of sleep. Yeah! It's exactly to be woken every few hours by a screaming baby as it is having one squirming around inside waiting to born. He seems to think that his life isn't going to change and he even asked when are we going to come and stay with him…my answer was maybe in a few years. He didn't think I was funny but I wasn't laughing when I said it, the idea of staying at someone's house who has a baby is about as appealing as having nails driven under my fingernails.

The Strange Things Kids Do

Before the guys arrived, I pulled out a large carry-on type of bag for the boys to use for their clothes and other miscellaneous stuff they needed to bring to Mother-in-law's house. I didn't look inside it, but just handed it †o the kids and said to put their stuff inside. It's not one Rainbird normally uses when he travels and the last time it was used was when we took our trip to Seattle last year.

The kids filled it with their important stuff and some non-important stuff I made them bring, like socks, underwear, and their toothbrushes. I brought them over on Thursday evening, and I knew they'd be missing school on Friday. So Friday, we're at a winery with all the guys and my cell phone rings, I look and see it's mother-in-law calling. I answer it and she tells me that Piss-boy found something in the bag we gave him to use. I'm thinking yeah, whatever…then she goes on to say it was a condom. Once I get over my shock, I start laughing, she's laughing and neither of us can figure out what possessed him to actually give it to her, except he thought it was funny—Its not like he doesn't know what they are. I get off the phone with her after I recovered from the laughter and returned inside the winery. Rainbird asked if everything was okay, and I started giggling all over again, and relay the story to him via a whisper. Well, my brother-in-law, who also started laughing hysterically, drawing attention to the scene and making everyone curious about it, overheard my whisper. Leaving me no choice but to repeat the story to everyone, including a few strangers, regardless of discrete I attempted to be. Everyone agreed that Piss-boy should have just put the thing in his wallet and kept quiet about it but also thought the shock value alone was worth something.

Between Shit and Syphilis

My father used to say you could find sympathy in the dictionary between shit and syphilis, so it shouldn't take a Rhodes scholar to figure out that begging for sympathy just doesn't work. Of course another saying is paybacks are a bitch but we'll get into that one later.

My husband, Rainbird, got a case of explosive diarrhea, really bad nasty stuff, the kind that makes you want to go to bed and not get out. Of course that's what you'd like to do, but it doesn't work that way. Naturally I reminded him frequently about shit and syphilis, but he didn't care. Then it happened, on Friday, he started feeling better, the virus it seems only lasts a little more than a day, but he stayed home anyway.

Remember what I was saying about Paybacks?

Well, we watched the movie Blood Diamond, which I hate to say, though very sad, was actually fairly good. Then we watched the movie The Secret of Rhone Innish an Irish family type of flick, which I enjoyed, despite feeling very tired and rather nauseous. So finally I went to bed, and just felt crappy but didn't think much and tried to sleep. At midnight I woke up with a shot, screamed at Rainbird, "Get the pot!" I ran to the bathroom knowing I was completely uncertain whether to sit or stand. After throwing up all over the toilet, Rainbird pushed the large stockpot through the door and muttered something about sleeping with Piss-boy.

Yet Another Reason Not To Feed Your Children Pepperoni Pizza in a House Filled with White Carpets

About 20 minutes later I was settled into bed, feeling crappy when I heard Fredo crying, and other voices. I instantly knew what was happening, and bolted from the bed, found poor Fredo on the stairs and told him to get his little ass upstairs and get into the bathroom. He didn't move fast enough and vomited all over four steps, needless to say I wasn't happy as I dragged him up the stairs. I still wasn't happy when I dragged him into the bathroom and watched him vomit all over the place while I screamed at him to kneel.

After convincing, yes rather harshly, it's best to kneel at the toilet if you're throwing up, I left the room, grabbed a towel and attempted to clean up the vomit on the stairs. Mind you, I'm feeling total crap, and I'm not very patient at all, so I leave the towel, and look into the guest room and see it's empty. I go downstairs and don't see Rainbird anywhere, so I go back upstairs, run back to my own bathroom and vomit again. After that I head back down the hall to Piss-boy's room, throw the door open, and scream at Rainbird if I can get a little help.

He got up and tried to clean the stairs using the carpet cleaner stuff I use, and sometime shortly after that Piss-boy ran into the bathroom throwing up in there. He went back to bed without saying another word and we didn't see him until Saturday afternoon.

I tell Fredo to take off his clothes, since he vomited all over them, and send him to sleep in our bedroom on Husband's side of the bed. I place a bucket by his side of the bed; the large pot on mine and we both woke two more times that night to throw up. We found it much easier though not to have to get out of bed to vomit.

Within an hour, the two kids and I were all sicker than husband was and at least Fredo and I stayed in the bedroom all day on Saturday watching cartoons and sleeping. By Sunday we started feeling much better, but that was Mother's Day and we couldn't celebrate, so I tried to clean the stairs better, while Rainbird went grocery shopping. Having succeeded where Rainbird miserably failed, I went downstairs and started tackling the stack of dishes in the sink and wondered how one man can make such a mess.

Other News

Paris Hilton is said to be emotionally distraught at the idea of serving 45 days in jail. They even organized a keep Paris out of Prison rally in New York City but only 3 people showed up and some photographers. You can't get more Simple than prison. Did anyone see her mother yelling at the prosecutor, it was priceless and clear none of them understand that if it were anyone else, they'd already be in jail.

She did nothing she was supposed to do, so yeah she deserves it. I hope she gets into a nasty cat fight and gets her skinny ass kicked.

Does Anyone Else Think God Shut Him Up Before He Said Anything Else?

Of course I'm speaking of Jerry Falwell, who accused Tinky Winky of being gay, warned parents the evils of Disneyland (and called for a boycott) because they gave benefits to domestic partners, said we deserved 9-11, aids was a good thing…I don't think I need to go on. He also said that if he didn't get a certain amount of money God was going to call him home. He also believed he had several years left because of "deals" he made with God.

I guess God felt otherwise.

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