An Odd Sense of Humor

A few days ago, during a conversation, a women mentioned that it seemed so backwards that the older you get, the less energy you have. Children have boundless energy. Shouldn't we have more energy to keep up with them? I think she has a very valid point.

In fact, the more I think of it, the more I think that the whole thing really is backwards. For example, when you drive for a long distance in a car...with children. The kids sleep, rest, and basically bottle up all of their energy, only to be released when the car is thrown in park at the journey's end. You are exhausted. Your eyes burn and your legs feel like pudding. You are ready to hit the hay. Only, you can't. Your offspring are zipping like hummingbirds on Twinkies.

Backwards, I tell ya.

Chase and I are in the fourth day of the flu bug; the third day of being locked in the house together. We are on the down slide and this backwards distribution of energy thing is rearing it's ugly head. His energy and color are returning, and cabin fever is setting in. He is a constant mass of noises, movement and questions. Me, I'm dead. Two nights of no sleep, a mile run from Tuesday night, and the possibility of inheriting this flu bug have replaced my energy with drunk-like stupor. When I woke up this morning, rigor mortis had set in. The mile run from two days ago finally hit at full speed. Yup, dead. Jeff got up with Chase this morning and fed him breakfast. By 9 AM, guilt set in and I dragged my corpse out of my comfy bed. Yup. I am sore from my chapped lips down. As I lumbered into the kitchen, this is what I saw:

He was making me toast, to bring me breakfast in bed. His explanation of the chef sans shirt: when going out to let Pepper out of the dog run, she excitedly ran up one side and down the other, leaving a muddy trail on his p-jays. It's a good thing he knows how to make toast. His appetite is coming back with a vengance, and I have no energy to feed him.

This picture speaks volumes. He had to dial back his craziness for the photo shoot. I had to summon some.

But, energy or no, life goes on. And in the midst of our infirm hold up, Chase lost another tooth. The tooth fairy was a little loopy, though. She had taken Tylenol PM and gone to bed, hoping for the first good night's sleep in a few days. At midnight, she sat up with a start (a slooooow start) realizing that she had forgotten her visit to Chase's pillow. She staggered to his room, with offerings clutched in hand, and literally almost fell on top of her gummy victim. She had a plan, though. If her lack of coordination caused her to wake him up before her mission was accomplished, she would grab a thermometer and take his temperature.

Well, my now-richer buddy and I are going to scrapbook. We have a fun spread all over the kitchen island. We scrap booked for 4 hours yesterday. Can we try for 8 today?!

And, I am realizing that this is my third post in three days about the flu. If I go for a fourth, will someone come in, drag me out by my greasy, fuzz-ball hair and slap some sense into me? Or, you can just take me out to lunch, if you're not embarrassed by how I look, and smell.