Never a dull moment...unfortunately

After the summer cards that we've been dealt, I thought that we were ready for a full house. Apparently, life's dealer wasn't quite done with his round of shuffles. 

A few weeks ago, we found out that Tommy had a cyst in his throat that needed to be removed. I can't even type those words without shuddering. No parent wants to deal with such news, but we also realized that we could not let such things wait.

We booked the earliest surgery possible. Tommy was in goofy spirits on T-minus 1 as the head surgeon prepped him. 

On the eve of T-minus 1, Peter and David finally picked up on the seriousness of Tommy's operation. They gave Tommy 'extra cuddles' and fought each other over who could sleep with Tommy in his bed; David won. Who knew?

Even the morning of, Tommy was being a brave trooper.

I had taken the week off from work to make sure Angie had someone's hand to squeeze. While we waited nervously, I came across this lovely gem.

This fun display of ancient medical torture devices is apparently the hospital's brain-gem meant to somehow comfort nervous families waiting outside the emergency room to hear news of their loved ones. Um, how do you say 'fail' in German? 

The 'Little Shop of Horrors' cabinet did nothing for me as I impatiently paced the hallway waiting for news. When Tommy finally came through, the German version of customer friendliness kicked in.

'Only one parent is allowed in.'

'Why?'

'Because only one parent is allowed in.'

I gave up on trying to understand the hospital's asinine rule that was supposedly intended to avoid overcrowding the 'wake-up' room which, by the way, had enough space to accommodate Tommy's entire kindergarten class.

After a long visit with Mama, Tommy asked for me. At least the hospital allows the parents to rotate. Danke schön!

Tommy was groggy and kept asking why the doctor had two heads. I was so relieved, though, that I didn't even come up with a smart-ass answer. 

After an hour in the wake-up room, Tommy was whisked off to his room via an underground tunnel that connected the surgery room and the children's clinic. Tommy was contently surprised to find that he had a TV and headphones in his room.

 I left Angie and Tommy to watch cartoons and headed off to pick up Peter and David from school. We made it back to the hospital five minutes after he conked out. It was a long day for the poor guy, so we let him sleep. And, believe it or not, Peter and David whispered the entire time. 

  

Seeing Tommy and all the hospital equipment made the boys nervous, so Angie gently explained what they did during the operation and that everything turned out just fine.

After Mama's reassurance, David's belly took over and he started picking at Angie's dinner.

It was hospital food, though, so he didn't eat much. Instead, we rallied together for a family hug and left on a search for food. Angie didn't specifically rule out any restaurants, so I went with my gut.

I didn't think we'd be setting up the manly-man room again this year, but as we were getting ready for bed, it seemed like it was needed.

I got the boys off to school the next morning and went to visit an impatient patient. 

'Can we go, now? Huh, huh? Can we go?'

Angie rolled her eyes and something told me that he had asked that question already.

'No, and stop asking! I already told you that we have to wait for the doctor.'

After a few hours of sitting around waiting for a doctor that never showed up, we simply checked out.

Shortly after making it back to the ranch, Maren stopped by with Tommy's favorite cake from her bakery.

For a few seconds, things were absolutely still. Peter and David were in their rooms and Tom was simply smiling in anticipation. I was quite enjoying the silence when Tommy realized he had a whole cake to eat. This sweet epiphany unleashed an ear-piercing shout.

As Tommy tested his vocal cords, Peter raced into the room giggling like a villain, chased by David, who was swinging a plastic snake over his head and hollering like a madman. And don't even mention the rat on the table. Just don't. 

Never a dull moment... fortunately.

That's it!

Peter has a presentation at school tomorrow, unless you ask him. Then Freak-out Boy would tell you that he has a REALLY MAJORLY HUGE PANICK-WORTHY LIFE-CHANGING event that's apparently is going down sometime tomorrow before lunch.

After dinner, Peter forced all family members to form a half-circle and jumped on an imaginary stage to wow the crowd. He had a bowl filled with water, an empty tea-light, and two gummy bears.

The presentation was actually an experiment to prove that air is not nothing. I refrained from making wise cracks that involved my wife or blondes, but mainly because Peter had started hyperventilating.

'Peter, calm down. What's the problem?'

'I,...I...ca...ca....can't remember how it goes!'

The experiment was one that Angie had done for her class and had shown him a few weeks ago. He had thought it was so cool that he would use that for his scientific debut.

'No problem, buddy! Mama showed that to you a few weeks ago; I'm sure she can show you how it goes.'

I turned to Angie. Blank look. Crickets.

Angie does an experiment for her class every week, so it took a few seconds for her to realize exactly which experiment Peter was expecting to save the day.

'Right! Hold on, I'll go google it...'

Peter started pacing the living room as David and Tom made farting noises from their front-row seats. It was getting late, so I thought I would add my words of wisdom.

'Peter, it's getting late. If it doesn't work out, you can always go with the baking soda-vinegar volcano...'

'No, Papa. I have to...'

It was at that point that Angie stood up from the computer and shouted.

'That's it!'

Angie then stormed off down the hallway and Peter and I both assumed that Mama had blown a gasket and was fed up with dealing with things like her children's emotions.

Peter full-on lost it. It was hard to even scoop him up to comfort him because he was more blubbery than one of those 'Water Snake Wigglies'.

'Mama said "that's it" and now "that's it". I don't have anything for tomorrow! Nothing!'

'Don't forget the volcano.'

'Papa! That's not funny. You know that I need to...'

It was at that point that Angie came back from the kitchen with a glass.

'Um, Steve...why is Peter crying?'

After a few confusing minutes, we finally understood each other. This never happens.

Angie's 'That's it!' followed by her abrupt storming down the hallway actually translated to 'That's it! That's the lesson plan explaining what we need for this experiment. And now, instead of sharing this tid-bit with my hyper-nervous first-born, I'm going to walk off to the kitchen to get the needed supplies very quickly without explaining my outburst to anyone.'

Peter then moved on to show us how an upside-down glass could submerge the empty tea-light with the two gummy bears inside for the ride to the bottom of the bowl without ruining the treats.  

'Ta-da!'

I turned to Angie.

'That's it?'

'Hey! Better than a volcano.'

Cat Scratch Fever

If you ever find yourself on the way home from a long day at work and are confronted by a meowing cat, shivering in the rain and begging you to scoop him up and take him to safety, don't. Just don't.

I was on my way back from the garage when Luke ran up to me and purred to me rather convincingly. It was pouring and I was racing home to get out of the rain, so I scooped him up and ran to the side gate. For some reason, though, this was locked and I don't have a key to the side gate.

Me, being brighter than the sun and Angie combined, decided to carry our cat around the garden to the main entrance. Everything was fine and dandy until we reached the Hauptstraße.

For you foreigners, Hauptstraße means 'Main Street'. It's also called the 'Fußgängerzone', which translates to the 'Foot-goers zone'. The translation means Jack, though - the real point is that cats apparently do not like that street.

I was cradling our cold and shivering feline as we approached the rather busy 'Hauptstraße'. As we turned the corner, it became painfully obvious that 'kitty no like...'. You can pretty much end that sentence with anything.

Kitty no like people.

Kitty no like noise.

Kitty no like master's face.

So yeah, if you ever find yourself on the way home from a long day at work and are confronted by a meowing cat, shivering in the rain and begging you to scoop him up and take him to safety, don't. Just don't.