And There Was Much Rejoicing.

So get this -

I didn't have to go out to Chez Inlaw.

HOW did I swing that, you ask? Easy.
A blazing case of Strep Throat.

I actually thanked God.

I got up at about 8, took a shower, dug through my panty drawer (smiling to myself as I pondered the fact that people all over the world knew exactly what pair of panties I'd be slipping into this morning), and looked at my throat in the bathroom mirror. My tonsils were white. That can't be good.

R told me to go to Urgent Care really quick so hopefully I could get some meds and be back in time to go out to Chez Inlaw. It was reminiscent of the time I had to pack all the kids into the Mazda and drive myself to the ER with a kidney infection on my birthday. Remember that? That's a classic PK tale.

I should mention that the day before, Tito had had a 103 fever and had been really lethargic so R took him to Urgent Care where he promptly threw up in the waiting room. So I was already trying to silently contain my joy when the possibility that I might not have to go out there after all originally surfaced with Tito being sick.

R called on his way home, however, announcing that Tito after a dose of Tylenol, Tito had had a miraculous recovery, and my hopes were all but dashed. Still, I wasn't feeling too stellar myself, and I mentioned to R that if I felt this icky tomorrow, I didn't think I'd go out. R pointed out that FIL probably wouldn't believe I was sick. FIL can suck it, for all I care. What's he want, for me to go out there, show him my paperwork and my perscription, spit in his iced tea and then sit back and gloat when he suddenly starts feeling sick too? WhatEVER.

When I thought about it, though, how totally pathetic is it that he thinks I'd feign illness to get out of going there? Does he sense how much people hate being around him? Does that just scream insecurity? Not that I'm above feinging illness or anything; I'd rather perform cataract surgery on myself with a rusty butter knife than spend a day out there, but shit, if I'm sick, I'm sick.
Screw you.

I kinda hoped that after remembering me home alone sick on Mother's Day it might actually dawn on them that Mother's Day is for ME too, and that their son is not only their son, he's also MY HUSBAND and MY KIDS' DAD (I'm pretty sure). God forbid my husband and kids stay home with ME on Mother's Day. No, no... you've had, what 40-something Mother's Days now? I've got my whole life ahead of me.

So, like I said, I drove myself to Urgent Care with my throat on fire and my whole body aching like I'd been beaten with a bat. R and I decided that if I wasn't out of there by 11, he'd take the kids out by himself. It worked out quite well, because at about 11 I got swabbed for the strep test and sure enough, I had it.

R asked me in a text message what meds I was getting, since he was pretty sure FIL would ask - and R was right. When he and the kids arrived, the first thing out of FIL's mouth was "So... anitbiotics for five days, then?" Dick.

R thought I should go out anyway because he knew FIL wouldn't buy it for a second, despite my having a contagious disease. Perhaps he was reacting to my saying how sorry I was that I wouldn't be able to go. I was really only sorry because I knew he'd miss me and of course I'd miss out on any Aldi shenanigans. And R said there were some good ones.

First of all, Aldigirl was forced to bring her homework out to Chez Inlaw. When FIL asked why they made her bring it out there (which I thought was kinda tacky, personally), Mrs. Aldi said, Well, she didn't do it on Friday, and then she didn't do it on Saturday... BE THE PARENTS, you spineless idiots. What was she doing Friday night and all day Saturday? COME ON.

But it turned out to be rather hilarious, according to R, because part of her homework was a word problem which went something like this:

You are in a marching band. Each row has 15 band members, and you are in the 9th row. How many band members are marching ahead of you?

Aldigirl's answer was 9.

It was a good thing I wasn't there because I TOTALLY would have made some delightfully catty comment about how this was some Halfwit Community College Marching Band and Aldigirl would be the one in the zebra-print leotard twirling a baton and catching it in her teeth while she turns a cartwheel and lands in the splits.

Reverend and Mrs. Aldi sat at the kitchen table and picked this word problem apart as only they could. Really kinda sad when the two of them combine their brainpower. It's like they're rubbing two wet noodles together, trying to get a spark. Unbefuckinlievable.

Well, it's really not cleeeeeear what they're aaaaaasking in the quehhh-stion... are they asking how many members are directly in front of you? Maaaaaybe... I dunnooooo... that would make sense, though, I mean, wouldn't it? Maaaaaybe... I dunnooooo... Yeah, I'd say 8, wouldn't you? I think so. Because the arrrrrrgument could logically be made... .

GOOD GOD!!! Ok, yeah, perhaps you have a valid point, but read over the rest of the homework to get a sense of what concept they're trying to promote here. Is it How To Spot A Trick Question? Or could it possibly be BASIC FOURTH GRADE MULTIPLICATION? I'm so glad I wasn't there. I would have had to leave the room so I could giggle and pee my pants in privacy.

And Aldiboy also made an appearance as he ate one of the chocolate pumpkin muffins I made the night before. Aldiboy shoved an entire muffin in his mouth while jumping up and down on the sofa and chanting Cupcake! Cupcake for ME!!

Now that I think about it, I licked my fingers a couple of times as I spooned the batter into the muffin cups. We'll see if FIL starts believing I'm sick within the next day or two.

So, all in all, it was one of the better Mother's Days in recent history. I stayed in bed, the house was quiet, I watched baseball and drifted in and out of consciousness. Plus I got my card for my mom in the mail in plenty of time for it to arrive on Saturday. All was well with the world.

The kids really didn't do much for me and I didn't care. Beeb wrote me a poem which she affixed to a piece of construction paper, and then she drew a pickle at the top and the bottom of the paper. AND - she dipped her finger in pickle juice and dabbed it onto the pickles she had drawn, for added realism. Sick, twisted, warped, demented and wrong, but kinda brilliant, no?

I had to applaud her, honestly. That's totally something I would do just to mess with somebody. Brava, Beebie.