You May Think It's Funny, but It's Snot (and It's Frozen)!

The text came in at 4:30 a.m. :

TWO HOUR DELAY

Several hours later . . .

   "Mom, can you drive me to school?" asked Sam.  

Charlie:  Drive?  Drive?  Did someone say, "Drive"?
                 Can I go?  Can I come?
                 Please, please, PLEASE let me come!

   "Charlie, you want to come?" I asked.  

Charlie:  Yes, yes, YES I want to come!
                 Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
                 I get to go!  I get to come!

Charlie nestled into Sam's lap, in the front seat of the car,
   pressing his cold, black nose against the hard, glass surface -
his favorite spot to view the outside world.

The temperature on the car thermometer 
   read 7 degrees.

"Mom," said Sam, "Charlie's snot just froze to the window."

Wha-at?

http://monkeypickles.com/2014/01/31/you-may-think-its-funny-but-its-snot-and-its-frozen/

Post-Tonsillectomy Party Update - BYOP

Due to the "polar vortex" . . .  

I can now say WITH CONFIDENCE
that the beers (in the cooler)
   are "ice-cold".

In fact, the cooler, itself, is FROZEN SOLID.  

Please bring your own ice pick (BYOP).

And, no worries . . .  

There are still plenty of
POPSICLES and Italian Ice
   in the freezer.

There is still plenty of
JELLO and PUDDING
   in the fridge.

You won't need an ice pick for those,
   though the little foil covers
on the JELLO and PUDDING cups can be tricky ;-)  

http://monkeypickles.com/2014/01/27/post-tonsillectomy-party-update-byop/

The Tonsillectomy (Part 3) - The Party

The patient has gone back to college.

Left behind . . .
is a refrigerator filled with
JELLO AND PUDDING.

Left behind . . .
is a freezer filled with
POPSICLES AND ITALIAN ICE.

And, the cooler on the back deck
   is still over-flowing with beer,
though the temperatures have risen above freezing
so I lack the confidence to tell you that they are still
   "ice-cold".

However . . . 

I am considering having a "post-tonsillectomy" party.

Pro hockey players, babies, and the elderly . . . are welcome.

http://monkeypickles.com/2014/01/21/the-tonsillectomy-part-3-the-party/

Winter's Stay

Just an hour’s drive from home . . .

From a distance,

I notice the snow-touched mountains,

   calling; beckoning.

Like taking a step back to appreciate a work of art,

I soak it all in,

Until, suddenly, we are

   navigating through the winding,

Snow-covered roads.  

Lightness turns to dark . . . 

White crystals, sparkling, beneath a magical, star-kissed sky.

Guiding the way – the moon; so big and bright,

   it hardly seems real. 

To our cabin, our cottage, our bungalow . . .

Our winter’s stay. 

The Tonsillectomy (Part 2) - Wine Doesn't Smell

My daughter could not eat a thing,
                           though she frequently fantasized about it.

So, I tried to refrain from cooking,
for fear that the aroma might cause her unbearable torture.

Her sense of smell, however, had suddenly taken on a canine quality.

She would send me texts from two floors up, asking me what I was eating.
Turns out, carryout food has a much stronger smell than I realized.

So, I tried eating non-smelly foods:
                    salad, raw fruits and vegetables, nuts, and cheese.
Fortunately (for me), all of the unhealthy, non-smelly foods (e.g. potato chips)
had already been consumed.

There could be an advantage to this, I thought.

As my poor daughter was being forced to survive on ice chips, popsicles, and jello,
   maybe I could lose a few pounds, as well.

One problem.

Wine doesn't smell.

At least, not in "that way" - that lures starving tonsillectomy patients from the other room.  

And, wine goes well with salad.
And, wine goes especially well with nuts and cheese.
And, there is plenty of wine in my house.

Willpower . . .

There is, also, a cooler on the back deck that is overflowing with beer,
   exceptionally chilled by the recent snowfall, courtesy of mother nature.

Beer doesn't smell (in "that way"), either.  

Willpower . . .

Currently, I can only fit into one pair of jeans,
   and a hole is developing in a very . . . conspicuous place,
which means that I either need to reduce my eating (and drinking) habits,
or buy a new pair of jeans . . . shhhhh (in a larger size).  Gulp.

Willpower . . .

Maybe I should host a post holiday party to get rid of some of this stuff.

In the meantime . . .
   if I wear a long shirt, I think I can still get away with wearing the jeans.

In the meantime . . .
   pass the pistachios; they go really well with red wine.

But, I must crack those pistachios quietly.

My daughter has developed canine hearing abilities, as well.  













 

The Tonsillectomy (Part 1)

After they filled her IV with "sleepy drugs",
   and wheeled her away . .
I paid a visit to the tiny little coffee shop, located in the lobby of the medical center.
I ordered a nonfat latte - LARGE (and, they actually called it "large"),
   because I anticipated a long wait.

Hmmm, and something to eat.   

What I really wanted
   was one of those golden-brown, flaky, buttery croissants
(staring at me through the glass case),
but it was January 2nd
and, though I am not a believer of New Year's resolutions,
   I could feel the results of all of the holiday partying
pressing up against (and spilling over) my jeans,
                  so . . .
   I grabbed a banana, instead.

I found a nice, intimate, light-filled window seat, and settled in.
   
One sip, however, and . . .
                                            yuck.

My "latte" tasted more like a cup of warm, nonfat milk infused in flavorless coffee.

But, it was all I had, and I needed my caffeine.

Unfortunately, about a quarter of the way through,
                                        my stomach was not very happy with me.

I could see the local headlines:

"While waiting for her daughter's tonsillectomy, mother dies of food poisoning
caused by hospital coffee.  Daughter is extremely sore, and wishing for her tonsils back, 
but is expected to make a full recovery." 

Fortunately (after a few trips to the bathroom), the episode passed,
   and aside from the unfortunate experience with abrasive hospital toilet paper,
I survived, unscathed.

My daughter, on the other hand, has been reduced to sucking on ice chips,
   and unsuccessfully satisfying her hunger (not to mention, self induced torture)
by watching Food Porn.

She was most recently quoted as saying (via text message):

   "This was the worst thing that I have ever experienced.  
                                                 Can I PLEASE have my tonsils back??!!"