I am sorry there was no post for “Fecal Friday”. I was not here and, truth be told, I dealt with no poo yesterday. How did I escape the poo? I will tell you.
I left with my daughter about 6:00AM to drive to downtown Houston for the second day of Orientation. AND I am happy to report that I didn’t get separated from the herd. However things didn’t go smoothly to start off. We were running on schedule and Kes went out to start the car while I collected my purse or put on earrings or some such thing. She came back in looking stricken and said, “My car won’t start. MOM, MY CAR WON’T START!” At this point John, (who was sleeping in and trying hard to get over the virus I gave him), woke up and came outside. “Kes, are you sure it’s in park?” Check. She tried to start it and it was evident it was either the battery, the starter or alternator. You know that noise…errrrrerrrrerrrrrerrrrr, nothing. So we looked under the hood and saw that one post on her battery was completely covered with corrosion. I ran in the garage and got a wire brush and came out and attacked it. With the first stroke of the brush a tiny, evil particle of…corrosion? battery acid? whatever, flicked straight into my right eye. OH MY GAWD! I have never felt anything burn that bad in my life. Not in my eye. Anyway, while I am in the house rinsing my eye out, Kes and John come to the conclusion that Kes will drive us there in John’s car and he will take our pickup to work. We were running a tad behind at this point and Kes was having an apoplectic fit to leave. (Have I ever mentioned that she is a bit… high strung? Tightly wound? Oh hell, she’s a stereotypical, type A personality. Not a lot of fun to live with sometimes.) So I run out and climb in the car with ALL the eye makeup missing from my right eye. I swear, she glanced at me, started to comment, made this microscopic head shake and started the car and backed out almost all in one move. I waited until we were almost there and the burning had subsided somewhat, to reapply some mascara. The red, swollen eye combined with my chapped red nose from the SINUS INFECTION FROM HELL, had me looking particularly…what…hungover? disgusting? I am not sure, but it was bad.
I should have taken a box of Puffs Plus with me because I sat through hours of one professor after another stress THE EXACT SAME THINGS, OVER AND OVER, while I repeatedly blew my nose into a red paper cocktail napkin. (UH Cougars, colors-red and white.) By the end of the day there was no way to tell if my nose was red from constantly blowing it into sandpaper a paper napkin, or if the color on said napkin ran and stained my nose. I lived though. Maybe because I knew that by the time I got home John would be at work as would younger child and H would have already been pooped and diapered, washed and dressed, drug into wheelchair and rolled into living room. OH! And fed!
That’s right, people. Behold. The power of the federal government, finally put to use for good and not evil. It is paying for a company named Home Health Providers, or HHP, to send a “Caregiver Provider” to our house TWO, (2) times a week! Note the title says “caregiver provider” as in providing ME, the caregiver with help. LOVE the concept. This lady does the same thing the aide for Home Health Care did as far as the bath and dressing, twice a week, BUT! WILL STAY FOR THREE, (3!) HOURS WHILE I LEAVE AND GO WHERE EVER THE HELL I WANT. WOO-HOOOOOO. So don’t call me on Tuesdays or Fridays between the hours of 1:00PM and 4:00PM. I WILL BE GONE. Probably. At the very least I will be in the bathtub. FOR 3 HOURS!