My wife complained of stomach pains this morning, and then asked to snuggle. Combined, I knew she was bound for the barf bucket. True to my intuition, she was hunched down on the floor, drooling, about an hour later.
I raced down to the basement to get a bucket, and I spent about a minute--precious time--opening joint compound buckets looking for a good receptacle. I even considered overturning the cat box but. . . ewwwww.
I finally found a bucket, and almost the moment I put it under my wife's chin, the gastronomic release began. Dominos Pizza with extra pineapple mostly, which made me dread that I would be undergoing a similar fate. So far, I've been spared, and her symptoms have grown to include body aches and chills, so we're looking at a full-blown stomach flu. Just can't wait to find out if I get it, which I probably will.
Point being: today was a Daddy day. The boy was all mine from pretty much 6:15 a.m. onward, while Mommy did the whole Typhoid Mary thing in the bedroom, although she emerged valiantly to be with our son at least for a little while.
Aiden and I went for two walks, one with a stroller, and one with the body harness. I prefer the stroller for ease of use, but the body harness is nice for the shorter walks that are complete before the extra weight makes my spine telescope. He laughed when I tickled his arm pits, but only sparingly, because too much is too much.
As nice as the bonding time was, I wanted to use today to get as much done on my latest freelance article as I could but, as it was. . . nada. Deadline is the 26th. My window is closing. Especially since I have another freelance article interview coming up next week.
Sent several literary book agent inquiries out tonight, too. E-mail inquiries, so who knows how that will turn out. I figure a book with the title "How to Cheat Death and Have Fun Doing it" should generate some sort of interest.
Right?
Posted by Ryan at April 18, 2010 08:38 PM | TrackBack
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