I picked up my boys today after I went to the library and the grocery store. They were waiting for me and ready to roll on out to Lloyd. This hoopacoodis (which is what my mother always called any illness which involved coughing and snot) they have is lingering like a bad smell at a tea party. They're still both snotty and coughing and all mothers know this sort of cough can drag on for a month, driving everyone around them crazy. And they're still not feeling that well. Owen, in fact, was filled with evil at first today. He screamed at me and was unhappy and he actually hit his brother (not very hard) and then he put his face in his hands and said, "What is wrong with me?"
"Oh, honey," I told him, picking up Gibson and comforting him. "I'll tell you what's wrong with you. You've been sick for a week and you're tired of it and you haven't been able to go anywhere and do fun things and you're just cranky. But you need to be sweeter because your brother trusts you to be sweet to him. What would you think if all of a sudden I started smacking you?"
Gibson by then was calmed and had forgotten all about the insult and Owen said, "That would be weird."
"Yes," I said. "It would. And I would not do that to you and you need to not do that to your brother."
And then he was fine.
He was once again my sweet boy. We had snacks and fed the chickens and had discussions and played a bastardized version of Monopoly which involved rolling a dice and moving around the game board. We are learning to count. He came up with the rule that if you land in jail, you have to switch your little game piece before you can get out. So if you're the train and you're in jail, you might have to switch to the race car to get out.
Then he got bored with Monopoly and washed the shoe and the train and the car and all of the little magical pieces in a glass of water. They are still sitting in the kitchen on a towel, very clean indeed now.
We watched some TV. Gibson sat beside me on the couch and leaned over on me and fell asleep and I put him on the bed and Owen and I shared two tangerines. He's lost three pounds since he got sick and wants mostly fruit when he does eat. It was so sweet sitting there with him and sharing tangerines. He leaned on me too and hugged me a lot. He loves his old MerMer. He does. And when Gibson woke up, I held him and he snuggled me and stroked my arms (one of the very few benefits of growing older is that the skin softens which makes it look weird, but feel nice) and I did This Little Piggy on his toes and made him giggle.
Boppy came home and had to immediately pack up and head out to Orlando for business although Gibson would not get out of his arms while he was here and so he let the boy help him pack. Owen helped him too. The kitchen is a disaster now and there's more dirty laundry and the floors are absolutely disgusting and here I am, alone again.
Oh well. I do not mind.
I have all evening to clean up and do laundry and catch up in Blogworld and even watch TV if I want. Remember last Wednesday when I called the Dish people and described the constant losing of the signal and the nice lady said they'd send me a new receiver? Well, I hadn't turned the TV on in that room since that conversation but last night Mr. Moon did and it behaved perfectly and it didn't lose signal once today during our Tom and Jerry marathon this afternoon and of course, the nicest UPS man delivered the new receiver today.
Isn't that always the way?
Now. If only the dogs would spontaneously become groomed because I've made them an appointment with Miss Beverly for that purpose tomorrow.
I am not counting on it.
It has been a very sweet day. I had my boys and I went to town and I talked to Lis on the phone to check on them and give her a full update of last night's events. They are mourning but Buck is buried in the family plot and there are flowers and candles on all the graves. Lis is slowly cleaning the house and she says they feel so isolated all of a sudden. So far away from everything and every one. They had no idea that Buck was such a very real companion. They did, of course, but not really. Even I, when my dogs go, am going to notice the quiet. There will be a space of emptiness where they once were.
Not that I'm going to mind that especially, but I'll notice.
Lis told me that they're playing a gig in South Carolina the night before Thanksgiving at a famous Hollywood movie producer's party and I asked her if they were planning on spending the night there afterwards. She said that no, they were planning on driving up that day, doing the gig and driving back that night. I forbade her to do this. Not to not do the gig, but to do all of the driving in one day.
"No!" I said in my fiercest Mother tone. "You cannot do that. Do you hear me? I won't allow it!"
She said they'd stop on the way back but I know they won't.
No one ever listens to me and mostly I've given up telling anyone what they can or cannot do, should or should not do. But every now and then...well, the boss in me just pops out and so it did today.
We'll see how that works out.
Anyway, here I am, all is well and it is very, very quiet in Lloyd. I bought all sorts of good groceries to make nourishing and healthy meals for my husband and me and I will probably end up cooking a damn frozen pizza because, well, it's easy. I'll put spinach on it.
I feel as if I have come back to the land of the living. And before too many hours are up, I'll be back in the land of the sleeping. And tomorrow I'll do some cleaning and take the dogs to be groomed and at the end of the day, my husband will return again, and again the planet I live on will tilt back to a more proper alignment, my heart feng-shui-ed into the place of good and proper spirits once more.