Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Buddy #3

Buddies number one and two are going to have to make room for...Holy shit! Is that Skeletor??!!

I worked from home today since Angie had one of her prego-checks today. At one point, I heard her calling for me from the other room. This is not unusual, but normally I can tune it out and ignoring it normally makes it go away.There was a certain urgency to the tone, though, that drew my attention.

I walked back to Peter and David's room to find Angie laid out on the floor, completely flat on her back. As I walked in the room, her hand shot up and mixture of embarrasment, annoyance and anger spread across her face. Help me up!

Had I been on my second cup of coffee and a bit more awake, I would have rushed for the camera and today's blog might have been called Flat as a Prego or some other title that would have surely annoyed Angie. Somehow, I think I may have reached that objective anyway.

The titles in general tend to annoy her, though. One of the previous entries was called Bing! Turkey's Done and at first she thought I was making fun of her irrational fear that her belly button might suddenly pop out, taking away her inny-hood and converting her to an outy. Well, only two things to say to that: It is not that irrational. It might still happen.

After verticalizing Angie, we went to the doctor's and found out the baby is doing just great. He was very active, but I find these ultrascans to be anything but ultra. They are a lot like those 3-D pictures where people shove their nose right up to them for 6 hours and then turn to you, cross-eyed, to claim jubilantly that they GOT IT! Yeah, ok. Great for you, cyclops.

On the way back from the doctor's, we stopped to get some toilet paper. As we passed by the candy section, I grabbed a candy bar and asked Angie if she wanted one. She didn't respond to me, though. Her eyes had gone glassy and were somehow focused on a spot behind me and to my left. I was getting a bit nervous because she wasn't really moving at all. Chocolate...she muttered as she slowly shuffled by me in a zombie-like state. I turned to see her grab this gargantuan, life-size chocolate bar off of the shelf. I was sure this thing was for display purposes only, but the lady at the register didn't say a word. Smart woman.

The boys were picked up by Grams & Opa and spent the day at the pool. Angie, now strangely afraid to sit or lay down after this morning's ordeal, went to get her hair cut and dyed. Several hours later I got the call that the boys were on the way back. I went downstairs to meet them and found them both completely racked out in the back seat. I woke up Peter and carried a very groggy David upstairs. A couple heavy shakes and a few gummy bears brought them around long enough for dinner.

Angie came back from the hair dresser just as we were getting ready to nibble on the chocolate wall that was now dividing our apartment in two. Peter was fascinated that Mama's hair had magically changed from blonde to brown. Peter is going through his why phase right now and eventually Angie explained that it was because she had yucky hair. Before, her hair was mixed - some brown, some blonde, and she wanted to have just one color.

At this point, Peter's lip did the shiver-quiver and then he completely lost it. Crying, sobbing, name it. It took us fifteen minutes to calm him down and finally realize his interpretation of what Mama had said. Blonde hair - yucky. Now it's all brown - not yucky. Peter's hair is blonde and apparently he is a tad sensitive to it being called yucky.

Ok. Now we know. We really didn't mean to hurt your feelings or make fun of your hair. Sorry about that whole silly mixup. Blondie.
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I, maybe we. I go to Opa & Grams and had a choco-croissant.
David: When Papa lese a book.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: You know what. When Mama's hair is not blonde.
David: When Mama come. Brown.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: Maybe we can play the crocodile game.
David: Mama and Peter and David and Papa. Get down. No. Boogarnobadoobeee.

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