"...For whatever the tortures of hell, I think the boredom of heaven would be even worse." *

Poison ivy. In his ear.
Ask me how.
How, you say?
*I*? Have no fucking clue.
Neither does he, or H.
Best we can figure, he was at the playground with some friends after hockey practice, and they were running around in the bushes.
So he’s on prednisone, which is EXACTLY what you want an impossible six-year-old-who-is-already-acting-like-a-two-year-old to be taking for the next week.
But his ear looks better, and he went to school today. (I have been assured he is NOT contagious.)
Which is good, because if he didn’t go to school, I may have been forced to put him in the dog crate for the day.
(I am KIDDING. Do NOT call CYS. (Maybe the SPCA but not CYS.) But he has been impossible.)

Now, the dog, which is what I know you all really care about, has an ear infection. Also on steroids and anti-inflammatories, and we must swab his ears with this gunk every other day till it clears up. Fuck me. But at least the new baby has not arrived yet.
‘cause remember when the cat got hit by a car right after Terzo was born?
That is exactly where I would be with the dog and his ear infection.
But no one cared about the cat. Why is that?
I received zip, zero, NO emails about the plan to just let the cat die.
Do rabid cat lovers not read blogs?
Inquiring minds want to know.
I want to know.

I also want to get my hair cut.
And lie around eating cannoli from the Italian deli, and reading novels.

Oh well.
People in hell want ice water, as my mother used to compassionately point out.
Speaking of...
(Hell? My mother? Both? Who knows?)
It’s been nine years.
Seems like yesterday in some respects, and eons ago in others.



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"I don't believe in an afterlife, so I don't have to spend my whole life fearing hell, or fearing heaven even more..." Isaac Asimov