Oh its been a week.

Let's start off the blog with a brownie, I really need it.



For the past couple of weeks I have been trying to make some new Christmas decorations to spruce this place up. So I had a day off and was able to spend the whole day to myself at the sewing machine. The house was fairly neat (never clean), laundry caught up, dinner in the crock pot. I was in a good place. As I was sewing I absent mindedly did not change the foot on the machine. Ya not supposed to zig zag with a 1/4 inch foot. So the needle snaped on that first zig. WHAP...that muther came humming at my eye. OUCH! I'm sitting there stunned that my sewing machine would do this to me. I then think "Sheesh I'm lucky I still l have an eye." I was afraid to go look in the mirror because it felt wet when my hand went to my eye. I was alone. I didn't think I was up to dealing with a river of blood. OUCH that hurt. It didn't end up being blood, it was tears. My eye teared up right away. I think I was crying too.



The needle in my eye? That was the good part of my day. About an hour later I got a call from the boy's teacher at school. I love this teacher she is as sweet as sugar...and great at what she does. She starts the conversation off with "There was an incident at recess." Crap crap crap crap crap...no mother of a boy wants to hear of an "incident." What did he say that was mean? Who did he punch? Did he chip his front tooth? She then goes on to preface the conversation with "We have been finding alot of used condoms out in the school yard." To which I say "OH NO. He didn't?" "Yup he did. He picked it up and was walking in from recess with it." The boy is seven. In the six years his feet have been on the ground I have been telling him things like: "Put that thing down its dirty, don't pick that up you don't know where its been. DROP IT!" So Mrs. B says "In his defense it was bright orange and looked like a balloon." Dear God up in heaven above, my girls never did things like this! She went on to tell me that she washed his hands and washed them again, Germ-Xd them, and washed them again, and Germ-Xd them again. I thanked her for calling. I called her back about four minuets later after I processed the word balloon and asked her to please ask this child if he tried to blow this dirty rotten object up. I know my son. He professed no he did not. She told me that she explained that what he touched was very germy and could have some very very bad germs on it and he needed to tell the truth. (Brownie anyone?)



Grrr.....Did I mention that I am a germ a phobe? As soon as that boy walked in the door from school an hour later, I stripped him and threw him in the shower. I washed his coat (the one I just washed the night before! Months can go by without washing the dirty rotten thing, now twice in one week).

In the meantime I'd called the pediatrician. I adore this man. He has been the boy's doctor since he was born. His last name is Silversmith, and the boy used to call him Dr. Zoozamif. We still refer to him as Dr. Zoozamif. He has guided me thru so much with this child. He said as a physician his opinion was that all diseases that could be on the condom were most likely dead. As a parent however, if it were his child he would run all the necessary blood tests now and then again in six months. For peace of mind I'd decided we needed to do blood work. He would mail me the lab script. Friday would be the day he would go for blood work. Shoot me now. That child has been a bad patient since the second he was born. (Shoving brownie in my mouth, excuse me)



Fast forward two days. I'd not heard from the school nurse or principal. I was so mad that neither one of them had the decency to acknowledge the situation. I started with the nurse, because I had a sneaky suspicion that she knew nothing of the "incident." She splits between two schools, and was not at our school at the time. I was correct, Mr. douche bag Principal never told her about it. I informed her, and explained this extreme anger she heard in my voice was not directed toward her, and it would have been nice to get a call from her at some point in the following 24 hours of "the incident." She agreed. I then called the douche bag of a principal that I have been dealing with for 10 years. Have I mentioned he's a douche bag? His response to me was "I did not assume that the item (the "item?" the "item?" say it asshole....the condom!!) was used when I heard what it was." NO? NO? PFFT. I said "come on Mr. Douche Bag...if it was YOUR son don't you think you would have to assume it was dirty? Wouldn't YOU have appreciated a call from the principal?" He then proceeded to give me six minuets and thirty seven seconds of lip service (I always look at the time counter on the phone when I talk to him, usually our calls are under a minuet--as I was the president of the PTO and talked to him often. He's not interested in talking.) After digesting his poor critical thinking skills, I called the Health Office in the administration building, and the director of elementary education (for what that was worth) and chewed their ears off about how this man should not be in the position that he is. I was pissed. (hurry if you want a brownie, they almost gone)



For three days I cried about this (did I mention that I stuck a needle in my eye too?????) Boy did that muther hurt every time I cried!!! I am now down to just some broken blood vessels in my eye (the one I'm lucky to have) and the boy had his blood drawn (I pleaded with my husband) and he agreed to do the blood work thing. I just couldn't. I can do alot of things but that torture was way too much for me. So that sweet sweet man I married actually came thru in a pinch! I know a couple of you are thinking "its about time!" Me too. Hooray for small miracles.

Oh did you say you wanted one of those brownies? Sorry I didn't mean to eat the whole plate. I proooomise to save you one next time.