So I don’t really feel any better. On the upside, I don’t sound like Bea Arthur anymore. I guess everything has kind of settled in my chest and irritated my throat to the point that I’ve mellowed into something along the lines of Kim Carnes.
I spent most of the day yesterday lying on the couch and complaining about how bad I felt at any given opportunity. The mailman acted like he wasn’t that interested (Please ma’am, just take your Hanna Andersson catalog and let me get back to my appointed rounds) but I think, somewhere deep down inside, he was interested in my analysis of the Spring time cold and how it relates to the changing weather and allergies.
Listen. It’s hard to write a blog post when you don’t feel good and haven’t done much all day. What am I going to say? I washed our white towels today and bleached the heck out of them. I also used plenty of fabric softener even though P is bothered by my use of fabric softener for the towels and says I do it that way because of my ethnicity. I’m not sure what being Italian has to do with using fabric softener, but I can tell you what being German has to do with thinking your way is the best way even though it’s clearly not. And how it leads to towels that aren’t very soft and don’t smell like lavender.
Of course he also complains that the monogram on the towels hinders their absorbency which kind of ruins his credibility on the entire matter.
Anyway, as much as I would have liked to get all Nyquiled up and napped all day after I washed those towels, I had to make a trip to HEB because we were running low on all our essentials. I think by now we all know that means York Peppermint Patties, Nilla Wafers and Q-tips. And then I had psyche myself up for the biggest event of our day.
The first soccer practice of the Spring season.
That’s right. We’re coaching soccer again. The Mighty Rainbows are back together. Except we’ve changed our name to the Cheetah Girls and our colors are lavender and silver. I’m not sure of all the reasons for the change because I am not a six-year-old girl, but I think they felt that Rainbows didn’t really suit them anymore. It’s been three months and they’re bigger, stronger, and faster. They are cheetah-esque. Assuming that cheetahs turn cartwheels and spin in circles until they’re dizzy during soccer practice.
I’d decided earlier in the day to make Sloppy Joes for dinner because it would be late after soccer and I needed to make something quick and easy that we’d all eat. But Caroline announced on the way home that she was no longer a fan of Sloppy Joes because they’re “too sloppy”. So she ended up eating Kraft mac and cheese because all the cold medicine had rendered me helpless to fight that battle.
After bath time she asked if I’d please roll her hair in foam rollers. I’m not sure why she felt she needed curly hair for school the next day, but it’s so rare that she lets me anything to her hair other than just pulling it back in ponytail that I agreed to do it even though it was late and past her bedtime. I immediately regretted the ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back when she put her head on the pillow and began crying and said there was no way she could sleep in the rollers but how else was she going to look beautiful tomorrow?
We took the rollers out as I promised her that I’d curl her hair with the curling iron in the morning. She tearfully asked if I’d sing her a lullaby, so I sang a round of Bette Davis Eyes because it would be a shame to waste this voice.
Then P and I ate Sloppy Joes for dinner. I’d like to say they were delicious, but that would be a lie. They were Sloppy Joes. We didn’t even have any side dishes which was kind of a new low.
And now I’m going to take some cough medicine and get some sleep. I’ve got a big morning of curling hair ahead of me and I need to be ready.