I stayed up till 2 a.m last night. I thought my sons had the rule down pretty well that unless the house is on fire or someone is sick, don’t wake me. This was my 1 week off and I wanted to at least sleep till 9.
At 8:07, P comes into my room and taps me on the shoulder. I was in an incredibly deep sleep from staying up so late along with the 3 glasses of Cabernet I consumed that were supposed to be for tonight.
I gave him the look of death. I was going to loose my shit if he said something like, “I’m hungry” or “watch my yo-yo trick.”
“Mom, I have strep throat,” he said in a raspy voice while clenching his throat. I wanted to scream. I am going to call it now; my oldest is a full blown hypochondriac. He has an ailment twice a day that usually resolves themselves by the end of the day. Plan on a post dedicated solely to his non-ailments.
“You don’t have strep throat P,” was the first thing out of my mouth. Then I thought, ‘who made me Dr. Quinn? Maybe he does have it. Yeah, but he probably doesn’t.’
I gave him a throat lozenge and said “wake me up in 20 minutes.” You could tell he didn’t find this acceptable. ‘Oh I’m sorry, would you like me to come down and watch you play your phone?’ I thought.
I laid back down. I can never get back to sleep no matter how hard I try. I punched the bed 3 times out of frustration, 10 minutes later. I grabbed my phone and headed downstairs.
At the foot of the stairs I noticed a moisture soaking into my left sock. I looked down to find about a 5 hour old, pool of piss. The icing on the cake were the 2 types of foot prints I noticed, jetting out in different directions, drying to the floor like the pee pool.
“C, did you step in Chi-Chi’s pee?”
“Yeah,” he answered like I had just asked if he took the last granola bar. He was preoccupied playing the X Box.
“Do you think you could have given me a heads up that there was a pool of pee right in front of the stairs so I wouldn’t step in it?”
“Sorry. But I stepped in it too,” he said as he stretched his entire body across the white pleather sofa.
“Oh my God, then why are your feet on the sofa?”
“There dry now,” he said as he transferred his feet from the sofa to the coffee table. I was too tired to walk C through the logistics of this. I would do it later.
Turns out, P is 100% o.k now. I know, I too was shocked at this Christmas miracle.
“My eyes are watering and hurt though”, he announced a few minutes after confirming his throat no longer hurt.