Sick as a dog, what’s your story? (bonus points to anyone who knnows where that line comes from. hint: it’s a song)
Where did the phrase “sick as a dog” come from? Dogs don’t get any sicker than any other animal with the same illness… I’ve got a cold. It’s official. And this week is busybusybusy!
Monday I have a welfare fair hearing, I need to return some overdue library books, and I need to get blood test results from ShyBoys mum. (ShyBoy hasn’t called — perhaps i should’ve asked him if he would actually use the number instead of just asking if it’d be weird if I gave him my #. Of course it wouldn’t be weird if he wasn’t planning on using it lol)
Tuesday I have a dentist appointment, which should take up most of the day.
Wednesday I have parenting class, which I don’t really need, and which doesn’t apply to my situation (it’s for parents who have kids in the foster care system. Never has happened, never will.). But with Court on Thursday, which will probably be adjourned after we get assigned our (free) 18B lawyers, I figured having a certificate of completion of parenting classes would hold more weight than my son and me saying I’m the “best mom in the known universe”.
And next weekend my son is supposed to go with his dad, a.k.a., Bad Dad, a.k.a., BD. In an ideal situation, the court will restrict BD to supervised visitation. But since they’ve got so many cases, it probably won’t happen…
(quick cigarette break)
So I am kind of sort of attempting to quit smoking. My sons school has done the whole, “smoking is bad” thing so my son wants me to quit (when I told him to tell that to his dad he replied, quite seriously, “but I WANT my dad to die.” oh, and the cigarettes themselves cast A LOT. But with
warm weather and allergies upon us, I figure now is the time. Sort of. Maybe.
My weekend consisted of a wonderful visit with my aunt & uncle from Pittsburgh (my fathers older brother)&my paternal grandmother a.k.a. my lifelong best friend.
Sunday — today — I was in bed with my cold and my imp-son was an absolute ANGEL. He put his dishes in the sink — and mine — and changed his guinea, sorry, Italian-American pig’s water without having to be told. We had a bit of a Big Bang Theory marathon, catching up on the earlier part of this season, and now he is sleeping next to me, all clean from his shower, damp hair smelling faintly of wet puppy.
As for me, I’m just dripping. Well, my wet hair is, but since it’s supposed to rain all week I figured it’s better to go back to my nightly shower…
Hope y’all had a good weekend 🙂