Somehow, I thought I was being efficiently grumpy about the last virus. You know, the Virus That Ate Vacation Week, while I worked on sitting upright, and the boys constructed new and exciting Lego machines that decapitate and/or catapult things. Except when the Toddles took a break to contemplate poison Rice Krispie treats. (I thought he was thinking about the egg in many rice crispie treat recipes, but no. There was something about ice, possibly dirty ice contaminated with bacteria, and then also the poison, but I'm unclear. Hopefully the virus took notes)
The Virus That Ate Vacation Week got extra, super duper points for showing up right on the heels of the Virus That Bulldozed The Mamas, which romped through the school, knocking over mamas left and right. Oddly, the children were (mostly) immune. But hey, points for the bulldozer virus: I spent the week before vacation slightly dazed, muttering things like I can't be sick now - the children are coming! the children are coming! must. accomplish. things. ergh.
Somewhere in the middle of this, the Toddles visited the Eldest's elementary school. There was tea, there were other parents, glaring at the Toddles, who was essentially running his own Sumoku game while I worked on sitting in the chair (in. chair. sit. hot. me?) and we all waited for the screenings to start.
(playtime! said the nice people, and the parents stretched their mouths in a smile-ish way)
Hey, I didn't teach him multiples of whatever number that was. Didn't y'all notice the kid correcting me on my fours? No? Does it help that he pulled the game out and decided to bring it - but I suggested that we bring a nice book instead? No. Right, then. You know, if you hold the glare for a few minutes, I'm going to have some really entertaining chills during the head of the school's fireside chat thing, and possibly even say any number of not-quite coherent things. None of which I'll remember later. You wouldn't want to clobber the viral mess o' mom in the parking lot, right?
(hot. me. cold!) (oh, crap.)
Tomorrow, of course, is the big meeting with the school, to talk about the Toddles' educational needs. And don't ask me what they are - I don't really know. But we've got a lovely, crackerjack learning specialist coming along, who played games with the Toddles for hours and hours. Mostly, I have to sit there. In the chair. Me and the Virus That Was Just Plain Repetitive.
You look tired, said a lovely rabbinic person. I nodded, hugged her (oh, cripes) and then went home to spend a night shivering. (hot. cold. me. hot. waves. thermostat?)