There's nothing like falling asleep approximately one hour after getting out of bed. I blame what ever this is that is ailing me (sometimes it is really hard to tell if my immune system is attacking itself YET AGAIN or if I actually have a cold that my immune system is legitamitly attacking). Usually I don't take a nap until I've been out of bed at 3-4 hours. One hour is ridiculous even by my own standards. I wasn't even prepared for it--as best as I can piece together, my laptop crashed (no big surprised there--do NOT ever buy Dell products), and I must have passed out waiting for it to reboot. That was a 2-minute window my body could not handle. I slept for 2 hours. I woke up and demanded The Boy make me some oatmeal.
Since I'm obviously dying, I demanded he make oatmeal MY WAY. Which is extremely simple and the only right way to make oatmeal anyway, so I am not sure what he was muttering about in the kitchen. Our house is so small, I can easily hear this muttering and it annoyed me. I yelled out the instructions on how to make it right because I could totally hear that he was doing it wrong. There was water running before I even heard the cabinet door open where the oatmeal is stored. I may be sick but I am not yet deaf. If he's lucky, my ears will fill with mucus and I will no longer be able to catch him making oatmeal the wrong way.
To make oatmeal:
1) Get a small bowl, side-salad size
2) Pour packet of instant oatmeal in to bowl (cinnamon or maple ONLY)
3) Take the 1/3 measuring cup and don't fill it to the brim, keep some space in there so you aren't sloshing water all over the counter; do that twice
4) Stir contents together
5) Lick spoon
6) Microwave for one minute
7) Stir again with same spoon
8) Bring to me with spoon and warn me if it is hot
Does any of that look difficult? He brings me soupy oatmeal in a large bowl. I felt it was well in my right to complain about it. I ate it and asked for another serving. It was less soupy but still in a large bowl. I hate when my food is brought to me on a dish that is too big for the serving. Lame. I generally avoid dinner-sized plates, and prefer lunch-sized plates. Wikus is on my side in this.
I sent The Boy off to find his own breakfast and to bring me back some hot chocolate. We'll see how he does with this errand.
Every time I am sick, and fall asleep on the couch, The Boy cannot help but bring up the time he was sick and asleep on the couch, and the orange lover peed on him. Every single time I don't feel well, and am on the couch, this unfortunate incident will be mentioned. I believe The Boy has some certain resentment that I have not been peed on while sick and sleeping on the couch. While this may be true, it could still happen in the future. Right now the orange lover is curled up next to me, and shows no signs of waiting for me to fall asleep so he can empty his bladder all over me, but one never knows what that rascal has planned. Also, I think The Boy should really remember the time that the orange lover peed on my hair when I was sleeping, and I had a flight to Portland, ME in the morning to visit a close friend. I can tell you that I had not prepared for cat-urine-smelling hair during my vacation, nor how unmercifully my friend made fun of me the whole time. That smell did not wash out for over a month. Every time the sun shone on my head, it came crawling out like the litterboxes on wet humid days. My friend would say, "Hey, it smell like cat pee around here." And he was so right. It did. It was me. Also, I did have a bad cold during that trip, so technically, the orange lover did pee on me when I was sick. Just not on the couch. So there. I don't know why that boy has to bitch so much when all I am asking for is some instant oatmeal prepared correctly and serviced in a size-appropriate bowl. GAH!
That hot chocolate better arrive with some whipped cream on top; otherwise, I'm going to lick the phone and all the door handles and make him know my wraith through experiencing how I feel right now. His schedule is busier than mine, so he won't even be able to take a nap on the couch and hope he doesn't get a visit from the orange lover's bladder of fun times.
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