This was a long week. It was full of colds and busi-ness. But there was one thing, ONE THING I was looking forward to more than anything (in fact I was looking forward to it all year long). Brad 's company Christmas party. It is always at a fancy schmancy restaurant (you know, the kind that is about $100 per person). The Little Miss goes off to play at the Grandparents and we stay out late talking with other adults and laughing. This is the one social event Brad actually looks forward to (since you know social situations are not his thing, they are my thing). I was also looking forward to Saturday, because for this Christmas I am doing the 12 days of Christmas for Brad, but to space it out I was going to start it on December 1st and he would get a gift every other day). His day 1 gift was suppose to arrive December 1st, and he could wear it to his fancy schmancy dinner party. I was checking on the package all week, and although it was in Wisconsin for 4 days (yep, 4 days!) It still promised the delivery date of Saturday, December 1st. Come Saturday morning I went to check on it, and it changed the delivery date to Monday, December 3rd. The was my first omen. It said it had been checked in to the US Postal Service but it had just been so that day. I was disappointed, but not too down because the party would still be fun. Around 1 o'clock I went to run some errands sans the Little Miss. When I got a call from Brad, bad omen number 2. He was asking when I would be home because he was feeling terrible and would like to take a nap. This rarely happens. I get home and he looks sick. So I send him to bed and think a 3 hour nap should do the trick. Then the Little Miss looks tired (again) she is now only taking 1 nap a day and she had just taken a 2 1/2 hour nap. Another omen I ignored. I put her down for a second nap, and thought happily to myself, "Well, that worked out nicely, now I can get ready without worry." I get ready. I am so excited for a night on the town (oh the thrill of a stay-at-home mom). I take a nice shower (I even shave), I fix my eyebrows, I do my hair nicely, I put on my finest make up (when I look in the mirror I can't recognize the person, because I was frumpy all week). I put on my cute purple dress with no spit up, food stains, or wrinkles. I wake up Brad (because you know it only takes him 15 minutes to get ready including the shower). He looks awful. He says, "I can't go." As Fancy Nance would say, "I am devastated. That is a fancy word for upset but a bazillion times worse." But he is sick. At that very moment, I don't have time to have a pity party because the Little Miss wakes up, screaming. I go get her. She is hot to the touch. Burning up. All hope is gone for a thrilling night on the town. I hold her I soothe her. She looks up to me and gives me a kiss. It soothes me. I remain in my fancy clothes the entire evening. I don't know why I just do. I head out the front door to run to the store to get the usual things for sickness. When I just about step on a big brown box... the gift! I squeal. At least, one thing went right.
Boo! Bummer.
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