Welp. This is a weird weekend
Feb. 6th, 2018 11:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impyMom had her surgery yesterday morning, which meant I had to get up at 2:30 to take my shower and to make sure I was awake and could have everyone else moving at the correct time. Except that at 4:30am, Widget runs downstairs and as I'm about to holler out, "Kiddo, you know you've got like half an hour left, right?" he starts puking.
Guys, if nothing else, I will forever relate to Stacey McGill for her stance on puke. I can't. I just... no. My worst babysitting moment was not my brother punching my charge and breaking the poor kid's glasses, nor was it the night the younger brother hopped on his older brother and tried to beat the ever loving shit out of him because someone hadn't taken their meds... it was when the kids puked in the living room.
Anyway, that kind of set the tone for the day. Widget was sick and I worried about what would happen while Mums and I were out (what if he got worse? Would his friend, who seems to be crashing here quite a bit, be smart enough to call for help unlike his other friends who did nothing when he accidentally sliced himself with a knife a few Julys ago?) and then I realized what time it was and just knew my brother wasn't going to show up on time to take us to the surgery center.
Sure enough, Mom calls and he answers with "OHSHIT, I'll be right there, I just got up!" and Mom has to drive because there's no time. Before she and I even get out of the parking lot, he calls to ask if it's okay if he has his friend drop him off when they go into work... at 7:30. Mom says it's fine and I relay the message but wonder if it will be considering the surgery itself is pretty short and never in the history of ever has my brother said he'd be there at one time and actually been on time. Usually late, occasionally early, but never on time.
Sure enough, at 7:30 when I text him to let him know she's on her way back to surgery (they were running late, I guess?) he hadn't even left his apartment yet.
I believe surgery went fine (she had her followup this morning but I didn't go for reasons I'll get to shortly) and we came home and the boy disappears... with the car. Widget appears for a shower and then makes the sounds again and ick. His friend showers as well and then leaves for... school? Work? Dunno.
The shortest version of the day goes like this: I stay up and ditz around, keeping an ear out for Mom and Widget. Widget spends the day getting ill and I worry that he's got the flu or something and is going to need to go to the ER... I finally take a small nap around 5 and at 7, Widget rushes into my room begging me to call his dad because he's sure it's his appendix. So I try calling and nothing. I text him to call the house because I'm hoping Widget told Mom more than he told me and for some reason, despite me telling Mom and my brother exactly what Widget told me, they seem to believe I'm holding out on them. So they send me into Widget's room to see how he is, to ask about where it hurts and to feel his forehead. I do and I'm kind of thinking since he's been sick for two days, definitely not kept anything down the entire day, maybe a trip to to the doctor wouldn't be the worst idea but my brother's brilliant plan is to just show up and spend the night on the couch.
Uhhhhh... no? Mom and I discuss this and she's hoping that when he shows up with the pedialite, he'll figure out that the kid should go in and that'll be that. Spoiler: that's not what happens.
Nope, he rolls in after 9 with Burger King (the smell of onions may never leave my nostrils. I hate onions) and one bottle of the 'Lite and goes up for maybe two minutes, comes down and has his food and then says that if Widget gets worse, I should call and he'll totally have his ringer on and be over ASAP. And then he leaves, with his BK trash on my clean table, the scent of onions lingering forever.
He's supposed to be back in the morning anyway because of Mom's followup. I figure I'll send him up to check on Widget when he gets here and then Mom says, "Good idea, so long as he's not late," and I know there's no way in hell he'll be even close to on time. So I wait as long as I can, because I don't want to wake Widget, and then once I hear him moving about, I go check on him. Sure enough, my brother shows up here ten minutes before Mom should be AT her appointment.
Sigh.
I've spent the last few days cleaning (because I guess it's too hard for people to clean their dishes as they go?) and watching Grace & Frankie. I'm down to two episodes and I don't want to finish because I don't think I'm going to like the ending and I hate having to wait a freakin' year for the next season.
Guys, if nothing else, I will forever relate to Stacey McGill for her stance on puke. I can't. I just... no. My worst babysitting moment was not my brother punching my charge and breaking the poor kid's glasses, nor was it the night the younger brother hopped on his older brother and tried to beat the ever loving shit out of him because someone hadn't taken their meds... it was when the kids puked in the living room.
Anyway, that kind of set the tone for the day. Widget was sick and I worried about what would happen while Mums and I were out (what if he got worse? Would his friend, who seems to be crashing here quite a bit, be smart enough to call for help unlike his other friends who did nothing when he accidentally sliced himself with a knife a few Julys ago?) and then I realized what time it was and just knew my brother wasn't going to show up on time to take us to the surgery center.
Sure enough, Mom calls and he answers with "OHSHIT, I'll be right there, I just got up!" and Mom has to drive because there's no time. Before she and I even get out of the parking lot, he calls to ask if it's okay if he has his friend drop him off when they go into work... at 7:30. Mom says it's fine and I relay the message but wonder if it will be considering the surgery itself is pretty short and never in the history of ever has my brother said he'd be there at one time and actually been on time. Usually late, occasionally early, but never on time.
Sure enough, at 7:30 when I text him to let him know she's on her way back to surgery (they were running late, I guess?) he hadn't even left his apartment yet.
I believe surgery went fine (she had her followup this morning but I didn't go for reasons I'll get to shortly) and we came home and the boy disappears... with the car. Widget appears for a shower and then makes the sounds again and ick. His friend showers as well and then leaves for... school? Work? Dunno.
The shortest version of the day goes like this: I stay up and ditz around, keeping an ear out for Mom and Widget. Widget spends the day getting ill and I worry that he's got the flu or something and is going to need to go to the ER... I finally take a small nap around 5 and at 7, Widget rushes into my room begging me to call his dad because he's sure it's his appendix. So I try calling and nothing. I text him to call the house because I'm hoping Widget told Mom more than he told me and for some reason, despite me telling Mom and my brother exactly what Widget told me, they seem to believe I'm holding out on them. So they send me into Widget's room to see how he is, to ask about where it hurts and to feel his forehead. I do and I'm kind of thinking since he's been sick for two days, definitely not kept anything down the entire day, maybe a trip to to the doctor wouldn't be the worst idea but my brother's brilliant plan is to just show up and spend the night on the couch.
Uhhhhh... no? Mom and I discuss this and she's hoping that when he shows up with the pedialite, he'll figure out that the kid should go in and that'll be that. Spoiler: that's not what happens.
Nope, he rolls in after 9 with Burger King (the smell of onions may never leave my nostrils. I hate onions) and one bottle of the 'Lite and goes up for maybe two minutes, comes down and has his food and then says that if Widget gets worse, I should call and he'll totally have his ringer on and be over ASAP. And then he leaves, with his BK trash on my clean table, the scent of onions lingering forever.
He's supposed to be back in the morning anyway because of Mom's followup. I figure I'll send him up to check on Widget when he gets here and then Mom says, "Good idea, so long as he's not late," and I know there's no way in hell he'll be even close to on time. So I wait as long as I can, because I don't want to wake Widget, and then once I hear him moving about, I go check on him. Sure enough, my brother shows up here ten minutes before Mom should be AT her appointment.
Sigh.
I've spent the last few days cleaning (because I guess it's too hard for people to clean their dishes as they go?) and watching Grace & Frankie. I'm down to two episodes and I don't want to finish because I don't think I'm going to like the ending and I hate having to wait a freakin' year for the next season.