I do not believe in wishes. Seriously, I don't. Whenever I hear or think of the word "wish", I think of genies. More specifically, the djinn I think of is a malicious, hateful, manipulative trickster like the evil bastard in "Wishmaster". I don't even make a wish when I blow out birthday candles or toss a coin in a fountain. Instead, I send a prayer. I mean I seriously don't believe in wishing.
'cause it seems when I even remotely, ever so slightly, positively minutely make an itsy-bitsy wish, it comes true. But at a major cost.
At least I think that's why I have had a string of shitty luck this past twenty-four hours.
I was in Home Depot yesterday and was looking at front-loading washing machines. I stared at them dreamily like Homer Simpson gazing at a doughnut. I thought, "Oooooo, front-loading high efficiency washer." They looked smaller than the ones that first came out a few years ago which got me thinking I could conceivably get one for my tiny-ass washroom. Boy oh boy, did I want one.
Somewhere during the day I remembered about forgetting to make a deposit in our one bank account. There was a whole $4 in it and we had two direct debits about to hit. One measly little pittance of a bank balance less two rather large debits equal a big, friggin headache for me. And it was Sunday to boot! Ooops. Not good. I needed to get to the bank at some point in time on Monday; however, my bank is located near me home and that is nowhere near me work. Not good.
And least we forget I was dreading going to work on Monday. Why? Don't know. I just had that, "Oh man, we had two Mondays in a row off. I WANT A THIRD!"
Did you see the word "wish" in any of the above (besides the first two paragraphs)? Me neither.
So here I am. It's Monday night. I spent the whole day at home because my child is sick. It started last night at 10:40PM with her getting sick in her crib. Quick as a flash, and with a bit more coordination than the Keystone cops, Geo got her cleaned up and I laundered her bedsheets and clothes. The remainder of the night was spent in the living room with the DVD player spinning "Mickey's Once Upon a Christmas" and "Mickey's Twice Upon a Christmas". Geo and I kept guard as the Dinks got sick every hour on the hour. It wasn't until about 2:00AM when she finally drifted into sleep. She was asleep in her Dora chair until 4AM when she migrated to the floor where I made up my makeshift bed. And for the rest of the day, there she remained, drifting in and out of sleepiness.
Geo had the night shift this week at the steel mill. Oh wait, I didn't tell you he no longer drives a truck. We'll just have to wait for a future post for that turn of good events in our home. So there we are, Geo has night shift so he was able to watch the baby for an hour as I got to the bank.
The Dinks is no better. She slept from 2PM this afternoon until 6. That's when she woke up crying. Uh oh. I dashed but I was too late. It was all over my pillow and blanket. Perfect. I was mad and frustrated and she was scared to death because she was still sick. Without completely flipping out, I stripped her down and threw the pillow and heavy blanket into the washer. As the water filled, the pillow kept puffing and floating and the blanket didn't budge. Therefore, I pushed down on the pillow to keep it in the water but it kept popping up. Push down. Pop up. Push down. Pop up. Down. Up. Down. Up. I gave up and slammed the lid. But it didn't do anything. Oh crap. I think I pushed down too hard. I actually broke the damn thing. Perfect. I went in the room where Dinks was wrapped in a blanket staring into space. What a site. I gave her another bath at her request and helped her brush her teeth. Got some new jim-jams on her and sat her down in her Dora chair. She got sick three more times. She is not keeping anything, not even water, in her stomach. Needless to say, her doctor appointment is at 9.
See where wishing can get ya?