My mom remarked, “I can’t drive at night.”
Me, “Why not?”
My mom, “I have a padiddle.”
I could not be more excited about the holidays. All I can think about is seeing my sister who I haven’t seen since July and the luxury of having my mom here for days on end. Of course as you have so kindly, or not so kindly, pointed out: I’m a worrier. Padiddles aside, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that everything works out with weather, travel and that stars are aligned.
I used to have a job where I got one or two days off for Christmas. There were many holidays that I would be driving back home on Christmas Day. Let me tell you I didn’t speed those days, I didn’t try to aggressively pass anyone, and my car’s maintenance was up to date. I was going to do everything in my power to avoid being a statistic on Christmas Day and breaking my mother’s heart.
This week my husband and I have been sick. I blogged last week that my son had a cold (he’s over it for the most part) but this weekend the germs transferred. My husband is afflicted with something that he has been fighting off for about two weeks. It seemed like it wasn’t getting any better so I finally had to step in and take him to the doctor (he’s now on antibiotics). He has severe asthma and I don’t want to take any chances. Last December he got the flu and he didn’t leave our bed for days.
Despite this year’s illness, he decided that he wanted to cook something for us this weekend and chose a Indian tomato soup (he is teaching himself how to cook Indian food because he wanted to learn how to cook and why not start with something you like to eat in restaurants?). I could see that it was going to take a long time and, in an attempt to give him private time in the kitchen, I took our son out to run an errand, assuming that when we got back there would be soup waiting.
My little guy and I busted in through the door and I found my husband at the sink nursing a burn. He had tried to blend hot soup and the top of the blender exploded sending hot soup everywhere including his arm. Soup graffitied his shirt, the counter was a war zone… There were splotches covering every inch of the floor. The worst part in his eyes: my husband’s backpack was on the counter open. The outside and the interior was covered in tomato soup. He was pissed.
Thankfully he calmed down and we ended up eating some very delicious soup for dinner as there was still plenty that hadn’t been spun out across the room.
That night, after the small one was sleeping, we pushed our sick selves to clean the kitchen.
He We ended up reorganizing everything. The way things are organized now is more functional and less slapdash. We’re both pleased.
I’m hoping everyone will be healthy in time for the holidays. I’m hosting my small family for the first time ever. I really need some kitchen time with them, it’s nourishing. I don’t care if we make messes, just as long as no one gets burnt! Fingers crossed while wishing you the same, readers!