Sunday, January 24, 2010

He actually had the nerve to gloat about how many comments he got

Here I was, innocently having a weekend, when I sign into my blog and see my husband’s whiney blogpost. The nerve. This is my blog. It’s not Testicular Confessions in My Formula. It’s Frogs, dammit.

Though, thinking back, Chuck’s blog hijack doesn’t surprise me. He and Junior were out of sorts all day Friday—in that late-January, clawing the walls, cabin fevered kind of way. He actually brought Junior to my office at 4 p.m. to visit, just to get out of the house.

I went out to the parking lot to meet them, but it was clear Junior was still sick. His ears and cheeks were bright red. Snot ran down his lip. The only way he was leaving the car was in a bubble.

When Junior heard me tell Chuck he should probably just take him home, Junior flipped.

He started screaming, “I WANT TO GO INSIDE! I WANT TO GO INSIDE! I WANT TO GO INSIDE!” It wasn’t the typical toddler scream. It was bloodcurdling and ear shattering. He was hysterical.

It was awful.

“He’s still sick,” I told Chuck as we stood outside the car looking in at Junior.

“He’s just tired,” Chuck said.


“He’s in no condition to see people.”

“He’s fine,” Chuck said.


The parking lot security guard looked over.

“He needs to go home and rest,” I said.

“He’s just having a moment,” Chuck said.


"If you don't do something soon, I'm going to have a moment," I said.

"Oh no, you don't get to have a moment before I have a moment."

The security guard walked over. “Everything all right here?” she asked, looking at Junior.

I said yes, of course. I was just beating my toddler at my place of work. Was that all right?

I told Chuck he had to see if Junior’s pediatrician would see him again. Junior’s been sick since before Christmas. I couldn’t take any more.

Besides, it was a Friday. Everyone knows what happens with sick children on Fridays: They always get worse over the weekend. It’s an unspoken law. The universe gets off on listening to parents’ frightened calls to the on-call doctor, because the on-call doctor is always the meanest, grumpiest son of a bitch in town. The conversation always goes like this: “So his fever is only 107 and the spots on his tongue are only erupting every two minutes? Grumble, grumble. You’re an idiot for calling. Click.”

So Chuck called the pediatrician, who agreed to see him. But when Junior saw that I wasn’t coming, he started wailing again. So Chuck grabbed me by the waist and threw me in the car.

What fun! An office break at 4:15. No purse. No jacket. No explanation to my boss as to why I’m nowhere to be found.

I won’t bore you with the details of Junior’s visit, except to say that I was right to say we should bring him in. I was right, I was right, I was right.

One shot of antibiotic later, we were all on our way merrily back to my office. (Did I mention I was right?) By then it was almost five o’clock. My co-workers were walking out to leave. I didn’t want to get caught getting dropped off, so Chuck pulled behind a snow mound in the back parking lot. I jumped out of the car, furrowed a hole through the mound and slid across the lot.

I felt like Swamp Thing. I was cold. My bra kept unfastening on me. I had to dive under cars to avoid being seen. I just wanted to go home and take care of Junior.

But. No one noticed I was gone. Not one person. Do you know what this means?

It means I can escape again.

*I may have taken some creative license with Junior's comments. I can do that because this is my blog.


Jen said...

You know what this means, that you can leave the office unnoticed? It means you and Chuck can have nooners in the car (provided you can hand junior off to some stranger or family member).

I'm glad he isn't flipping out anymore.

and that Junior is feeling better.

Frogs in my formula said...

Did my husband tell you to write that? Is he emailing my contacts now as well?? Aggghh!

Juliana said...

I am glad your son is feeling better. Your husband needs to know that mommy bloggers will always rule the world. BUT...I am very impressed that he blogs. Most husbands barely read their baby mamas blogs!

Pricilla said...

How one knew you were gone. Just show up in the morning, leave, and come back to say goodbye. It's genius!

Mammatalk said...

Congratulations! Can't wait to hear about future escapes!

Dagmar said...

Love this post :)

Stacy (the Random Cool Chick) said...

HA! I love it - your 'Mommy Interpretation' of what Junior was really saying, and the fact that Chuck kidnapped you to go to Junior's pediatrician to prove that you were right. And I could totally see you furrowing a hole through the snow mound and sliding across the lot diving under cars to avoid being seen. Now you know you can do it in the future and have your absence go unnoticed. Just make sure you wear a better bra so you won't be deterred by it unfastening. That could result in you being caught. ;)

Glad Junior was able to be seen by his doctor to get some antibiotics - hope he's feeling better soon!

Buggys said...

You are so tough! Burrowing through the snow bank, wow. Good thinking. What will you do with your new found freedom?

GreenJello said...

If you have nooners in the car, the security guard will have plenty of afternoon entertainment.

Brandy said...

LOL. I can totally see you super secret spy manuevering across the parking lot becuase I know you didn't make that up.

Mrsbear said...

Firstly, your Thomas rocked. (Sorry, I'm condensing comments, haven't been by in a few.)

Second, leaving your blog open to hijacking? For shame. Where were the ninjas?

Lastly, antibiotics are a good thing! For Junior, you and Chuck. A sick ear achy toddler can drive anyone to desperate measures, it can also drive a toddler to a working mom's place of employment and demand justice apparently.

Nice to know you're such an integral part of the work place, no?

Nanny Goats In Panties said...

Awe. Some.

That is all.

Grand Pooba said...

You better take advantage of that escape plan more often!

I just wanted to congratulate you on being right! Not that I'd ever doubt you, I'm just sayin.

Heather, Queen of Shake Shake said...

You're right, the Universe DOES do that.

And are you like me and would rather hear "you're right" instead of "I love you"?

Keely said...


I used to be able to wander off too. Then finally someone noticed. It was good while it lasted.

Never mind nooners, go shopping!

blognut said...


No one will ever know!

Mary@Holy Mackerel said...

I can just see you tunnelling through the snow, bra unhooked. The things we do to not get caught.

siteseer said...

Don't you love being right?! Even if it meant Junior had to be sick lol

Catootes said...

If there are camera's in the parking lot that will record your nooners with Chuck, you might be able to bribe the security guard to give you a copy.
Your very own office made sexcapade.

Connecticut may never be the same. Oh wait. Yes it will. It's weird up there. I know. When I worked in Mystic, the office manager and the director were having an affair which they thought NO ONE knew about. Of course we all did. small towns know all...

Glad Junior is on the mend.

SLColman said...

I hope that the shot helped and Junior is feeling better!

Isn't it odd how one can just disappear at work and nobody even notices?

The Mother said...

Men are constitutionally incapable of handling a sick kid--they decompensate. That even applies to pediatricians, BTW.

I did comment, but only to remind him that he missed a teachable moment. So I wasn't really a turncoat.

Staci said...

I think I would have had conflicting feelings about no one noticing I had left. Like you, on the one hand, I would be happy that I could do it again. On the other hand, I would have been a little insulted that people thought so little of me or noticed me so little that I could do so.

Ms. Salti said...

LMAO!!! I'm glad junior is on the mend! And I'm happy to hear you were right... the woman always is! You should have gotten pics of you crawling under the cars and burrowing through the snow!

Man! There are a lot of holes in my neighborhood

Our young neighbors Bob and Claire are wonderful —which is a fricken relief because we basically share a yard. A flat, treeless yard. When ...