This story is long and tedious, but for your viewing pleasure I've included many pictures to make it more interesting. Or at least make it as interesting as it's going to get......which isn't much. Easter weekend started out typical enough. We colored eggs and I, per usual, cracked a couple of the eggs while boiling them. I kick ass cooking, yet I fuck up boiling eggs all. the. time. It's a curse, or a gift depending how you look at it.
Of course as we are snug in the house making the eggs pretty, it starts doing this outside:
Nothing says Easter and spring like 5 inches of snow.
Saturday morning we get up, shovel and of course Aaron has to play in the snow. He would play in the snow all day if we'd let him.
Exhausted from all the snow romping, the boys collapse on the family room floor for a little R&R.
I bet your thinking "What's so bad about this weekend?" "Why the hell is the bitch whining so much?" Well people, my weekend hell began Sunday morning. Aaron got up as usual, made it to the side of my bed to help him untangle his underwear for the day and put it on. Then, he yells "POOP!" as loud as he could (and in my ear of course.) He runs across the hall to the bathroom and I hear "Ewwwwwwww, that's gigusting." I get up, mosey into the bathroom to see poop all down his leg and covering the toilet. I try to clean him up, but end up dumping him in the tub, although not before I have to rush to get him on the toilet again. As I walk back to my bedroom, I notice there is a poop trail leading from the side of my bed all the way to the potty. Fucking lovely. Aaron manages to hold it together for the egg hunt and Easter baskets.
We thought maybe it was a fluke, like too much oatmeal and blueberries in one day, but no. Shortly thereafter his little body lost it and poop was rocketing out of his body. We finally just made him stay on the toilet because he was spending more time on it and running to it than off. If fact on one running occasion he somehow managed to severely pinch his thighs between the toilet seat and basin. The poor kid is now sporting blood blisters across the top of his chubby legs. Thanks to children's Immodium (I ADORE the Immodium gods. Bless you.) he managed to calm down around 3 pm, but then he was up all night puking. No more. I'm done. I can handle blood and snot, but puke and poop are the worst. The only highlight of Easter was my sweet gift from Aaron:
Nothing says love like a prized used Spiderman band aid.
AND the dessert of the gods. It's from Confessions of a Pioneer Woman. She's re-working her site, so there isn't much to link to. The recipe is so easy and to fucking die for.
Apple Dumplings
2 crescent roll dough packages
2 large granny smith apples
2 stick of butter
1 1/2 cups of suger
2 tsp of vanilla
6 oz of Mountain Dew
cinnamon
Preheat oven to 350
Cut the apples into 16 slices. Wrap each apple slice with one crescent roll. Place them in a 9 x 13 greased baking pan. Melt the butter. Mix in the sugar, but don't mix it too much. Enjoy the clumpity goodness. Add the vanilla. Then pour over the apple/crescent slices. Then pour the Mountain Dew around the edges. Sprinkle cinnamon over the whole damn thing. Bake for 40 minutes. Serve with ice cream.
There now, I have just given you reason to live (well, actually Mrs. Pioneer Woman did.) You will love me forever and want to do dirty things to me. But you can't. Because I'm married you see.
Now I am back at work and the projectile puking and diarrhea has stopped.
The end.
(applause, curtain drops, cast and crew comes out for bows.)
