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sequel to last night
Mar. 15th, 2007 02:05 pm.
Sarah was sick this morning, literally. She made it to the bathroom most times (when she didn't, she got the two square-foot area of carpet by my bed that I can't help walking on). So she stayed home, and we had a pretty much quiet time. All morning, we were upstairs in the master bedroom, watching her shows, one after the other. I like "Charley and Lola" and don't mind "The Wiggles." The rest... oh, lord, the rest. Let us draw the curtain on the rest.
Sarah was docile and undemanding. She mentioned several times that she really was sick, and I said, yes, I knew she was. "I wasn't lying," she said. Several times. She had a couple of cups of tea made her way, half hot water, half cold, with two heaping spoons of the sweet white stuff. There was a popsicle in there somewhere, for her sore throat. For lunch, I made tuna in white sauce with rice, and a side of corn (by request). Sarah didn't want the rice and the sauce mixed, but later she asked me why I mixed them together. "It's how we always do it," I said, so she gave it a try and decided she really likes it that way, and asked me to make it again some time.
Then I exercised on the treadmill for one fake mile. It's not supposed to get harder every time, but my shins start protesting earlier and louder every time. I ended up knocking it down from 4 "miles" per hour to 3.9, just for the imagined sensation of relief. Sarah camped out next to me, watching the process. This is progress, because it used to be impossible to exercise with her in the house.
Afterwards, she requested that I bring her more cubes of lemon ice. I had one myself. They're not bad, though it seems like all the flavor ends up on the top of the cube somehow. As long as she likes them, it's fine by me.
SpongeBob is on now, a show we both enjoy. I probably enjoy it more than she does, but who can say? Cathy will try and get home early -- maybe an hour early. We'll probably have mac & cheese with nuked hot dog slices for dinner, as is customary on Thursdays, but she's not going to her gymnastics class in her condition.
.
Sarah was sick this morning, literally. She made it to the bathroom most times (when she didn't, she got the two square-foot area of carpet by my bed that I can't help walking on). So she stayed home, and we had a pretty much quiet time. All morning, we were upstairs in the master bedroom, watching her shows, one after the other. I like "Charley and Lola" and don't mind "The Wiggles." The rest... oh, lord, the rest. Let us draw the curtain on the rest.
Sarah was docile and undemanding. She mentioned several times that she really was sick, and I said, yes, I knew she was. "I wasn't lying," she said. Several times. She had a couple of cups of tea made her way, half hot water, half cold, with two heaping spoons of the sweet white stuff. There was a popsicle in there somewhere, for her sore throat. For lunch, I made tuna in white sauce with rice, and a side of corn (by request). Sarah didn't want the rice and the sauce mixed, but later she asked me why I mixed them together. "It's how we always do it," I said, so she gave it a try and decided she really likes it that way, and asked me to make it again some time.
Then I exercised on the treadmill for one fake mile. It's not supposed to get harder every time, but my shins start protesting earlier and louder every time. I ended up knocking it down from 4 "miles" per hour to 3.9, just for the imagined sensation of relief. Sarah camped out next to me, watching the process. This is progress, because it used to be impossible to exercise with her in the house.
Afterwards, she requested that I bring her more cubes of lemon ice. I had one myself. They're not bad, though it seems like all the flavor ends up on the top of the cube somehow. As long as she likes them, it's fine by me.
SpongeBob is on now, a show we both enjoy. I probably enjoy it more than she does, but who can say? Cathy will try and get home early -- maybe an hour early. We'll probably have mac & cheese with nuked hot dog slices for dinner, as is customary on Thursdays, but she's not going to her gymnastics class in her condition.
.
