Seeing The Light

So, I seem to have Rachel's awful bug. Luckily, it hit me on an empty stomach. But how unfair is it that I should get sick and not Larry? I mean, it WAS Larry who was the holder of the towel during her barfing all-nighter. Yet here I lie, starving and miserable. I am tempted to breathe on his pillow.

Very difficult to operate, apparently

So, after dropping the girls off at their activity this morning, I drove home and went to bed. I've gotten up a few times today, wandered downstairs, turned out lights, closed doors, and then gone back to bed, exhausted. Because, really, as the parent of children who are all aged 10 and up, that is mostly what I do now - turn out lights and close doors: closet doors, pantry doors, cabinet doors. Constantly. And I am too burned out to harangue the kids to do it.

Did I say "burned out"? I meant, cynical - I am too cynical. You see, I know it's useless. They don't hear me. They don't understand me. I remember, as a teen, hearing my dad ranting, "The house is lit up like a Christmas tree!" and wondering what the heck his problem was.

The other thing I do is order pizza. The kids like that. I don't know why, because I only order the $8 carry-out special from Vocelli's, which is not very good, so far as pizza goes. But, every time, the kids act as though Christmas has arrived early. They run around, setting the table, mixing up some garlic-butter thing to dip their crusts in, and generally acting as though this event is cause for jubilation.

I guess they don't like my cooking.

Oh, dear, I sipped some flat Coke and my stomach is not happy. Not at all. Bright side is that I've used maybe 2 Weight Watchers points today. 2! Who needs a gym membership? I mean, what with the food deprivation and all the exercise I get turning out lights and closing doors, I'll be svelte in no time at all.