Chemo. Fried My Brains

So today, I whisked the kids off at 7:30 in the morning to the dentist.  That was no easy feat.  There was a whole lot of crying going on around here.

“You don’t have an appointment today,” said the receptionist, after I hung up the coats, and just settled in..

“What do you mean I don’t have an appointment”, I answered.  “Isn’t today March 11th?”

“Nope, March 10th”, she responded, “and even the dentist isn’t here yet”.

“See you tomorrow,” I told her.   Of all the crummy luck……

And of course, Frick and Frack were already putting in their orders for a soup and sandwich at the Coffee Time Donut place downstairs.  I had previously told them they couldn’t have anything because after the dentist cleans your teeth, you aren’t allowed to eat for an hour  (plenty of time to by-pass the Donut store and leave with nothing)  But they didn’t have their teeth cleaned and my kids aren’t stupid.  I am.  And I have less money in my wallet to prove it.  I think the Chemo. fried my brains.

On Monday, I had a steroid flashback episode.

I saw fingerprints on the kitchen wall and told Bobo to bring me the can of paint for the kitchen before he went to work.  I was going to do some touch ups.  He brought me the wrong can of paint.  As I was doing the touch-ups I kept thinking that it looked a little bit dark, but I figured it would dry lighter.  That was not the case.  So then I had splotches of paints all over the kitchen.  And you know what that means, don’t you?  Yes, I spent the entire morning painting the kitchen (but not the top part because I couldn’t reach and my arms are still sore).  So I phoned Bobo and told him that 80% of the kitchen was now painted, but not about 2/3 feet along the top, and he needed to do it when he came home.  And, I also added, there wasn’t a heck of a lot a paint left, so he had to use what was left sparingly.

That night, he was as busy as a beaver painting while we were all asleep.  The next day when I woke up, I went into the kitchen and asked him if he had enough paint.  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said.  It was the wrong paint, so I did it all again.  “WHAT!”, I answered.  “Are you CRAZY?”  It was almost done in the butter pecan colour you gave me and you painted it AGAIN!

“Yes”, he answered.  “It looked better white”.

Now who is the crazy one?

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