I know, I know. You find my lack of posts this week….disturbing.
Like I said last week, sometimes Life just flat doesn’t cooperate, and when that happens, well, let’s be honest, it isn’t like this is my first responsibility.
Long story short, the Puddinette had minor surgery yesterday. Now, don’t get all worked up, it was on of those planned-weeks-ahead-of-time outpatient deals, no big deal. Not like an emergency puddinectomy or anything (as if anyone could be rid of me as easily as surgical removal). Anyway, when you take a household with four non-adult and two adult humans and effectively bench one of the grown-ups, things get a little hectic.
She’ll be fine in a day or two and back on the field in tip-top shape. Until then, I’m trying to keep her comfortable while preventing the kids from either setting the house on fire or covering it in flour. You know, because, hey, it’s flour.
I guess I’m earning brownie points or something because she keeps telling me what a great guy I am to be doing so much. I don’t know about all that, really. I figured this was just what you’re supposed to do when one’s spouse is under the weather for a spell. To my mind, it’s part of the job, not a special achievement.
Of course, by the same token, the poor Puddinette is in for it when I finally beat my liver into submission and have to get that Uber-Cyborg-Liver implant. I’ll be on the couch for a week, minimum, ringing a little bell to have my pillows fluffed while I watch a Simpsons marathon of every episode ever produced.
At any rate, my beautiful wife is on the mend and will be back to being disappointed in me soon enough. Which will give me more time to disappoint all of you as well. The perfect win-win scenario, right?
So wish the Puddinette well and let’s all hope I’m not scarring my children too badly in the meantime.