Cathy in the Wright

PSA

I know there are lots of great things being done to help our soldiers. Here's another one.

Cell Phones for Soldiers was created by two teenagers, 13 year old Brittany Bergquist and her brother, 12 year old Robbie Bergquist of Norwell Massachusetts. After reading a story about a soldier who ran up a huge phone bill calling home, the two teenagers decided to try and help. Their goal is to try and help our soldiers serving in Iraq and elswhere pay for calls home. They plan to provide as many soldiers as possible with pre-paid cell phones or calling cards. The South Shore Savings Bank in Norwell, Massachusetts set up the account and donated the first $500.00. Brittany and Robbie plan to hold yard sales and other fundraisers to raise money. 100 % of every dollar donated will go to support this effort. Their parents, Bob & Gail Bergquist, are contacting cell phone companies to help out. They are also contacting representatives of the military to put a plan in place to distribute the cell phones and calling cards. They hope to begin the distribution by the end of summer.

Today's Most Humiliating Moment

From yesterday, actually, but I was too embarrassed to post it then.

I leaned over the crib rail to pick up The Governor, and I passed gas. A delicate little blip, if I may say so. Quite feminine. All lavendar and roses. The Governor says,

"Did you toot?"

Yes. Excuse me.

"Do you need to change your pants?"

Fink. When I changed his pants I grabbed the Ben Gay. That'll teach him.

Yawn

The Outpost is a bit overwhelmed this week. I apologize for the light blogging. Between the doctor visits, dentist visits, school, nursing home, play dates, and the usual chores, I haven't found much time to sit and type.

Now that the half apology/half whine is out of the way...I am very excited that my brother-in-law and his wife are going to be here this weekend. (More light blogging.) They live in a hippy ski town broad-minded ski resort in Colorado. I love visiting; there's always a ton of outdoor activites and lots of partying. This place is the last few years of college, frozen in time, only without the exams and papers. The brother-in-law and his wife are pretty laid-back people, so it suits them. The VP and I would blow major arteries within a month of permanent residency.

Also returning to the Midwest: my parents have decided to come back home after running away for a couple of weeks. The Professor had his 50th high school class reunion out in D.C. They took the opportunity to visit several historic sites while they were in the area, and even took a few classes. Perhaps The Professor will share?

My nephew has his first Communion on Sunday. As I am his godmother, I will be in attendance to make sure he gets his wafer. And to see him in a suit. That boy wears a suit well. Last November at a family wedding, he looked better than the groom. (heh-heh...just kidding, Paula...sort of)

That's about it for tonight. I was going to write about how The Governor upholds every stereotype of "The Terrible Twos," but then I think about how he's only been two for twelve days, and it makes me cry.

A lot.

Oops. The news is about over. I wanted to check the forecast. 85 degrees today and tomorrow we're supposed to need our coats again. I love this place.

Snnrrgggrrrwwl

I'm not sure how to type an official 'snarl' sound, but if I did, this page would be filled with it.

I had computer problems all day. Lots of 'Page Not Found' displays along with a host of other troubles.

So I was forced to clean out my flower beds, weed the strawberry patch, and take a four-wheeler ride through the woods and fields. If you don't pity me, you're a heartless soul.

An example of a good soul, for those of you who need instruction and example, would be the young maintenance man at the nursing home this morning who gave me a heads up on the impending fire drill. I was able to secure Hoocher between my feet before the alarm sounded. The poor dog looked like he was enduring electro-shock therapy. He's not a fan of piercingly loud sounds. Neither were the residents. One woman quipped, "Do they think we're already dead?" The tornado sirens in town should be so loud.

Well...let's see if this posts. If it doesn't, the mushroom cloud you see rising from Wright County will have origniated here at The Outpost.

Heh!

Ryan has a fresh new angle on the John Kerry medal-pitching sport scandal.

Tech Question...

Any ideas on why I can't see photos on several sites? I thought I read somewhere it might have something to do with anti-virus software installed on my computer. True?

I can't get the photos on Power Line, Besmirched, and a few on Curmudgeonly & Skeptical. The problem is recent...as is an installation of Pest Control. Related? I didn't seem to have this problem before.

Ideas? Ideas? Anyone? Ideas?

*Update* Seems to be a problem when I click from my blogroll. When I visit these sites from my bookmarks, I can see photos. Is anyone else having this trouble when they click on other sites from my Links list?

I've Got Nothing

So here:

I can't remember how I came across this one...probably Jeff's fault.

11 O'clock News...Delayed

Sorry to disappoint, but I was too tired to post last night. When The VP got home, we dragged everyone to the local elementary school for a pork chop feed which was being held to help fund a new playground.

Trying to cut up chops with a plastic knife and fork has got to be straight out of Machiavelli's handbook.

The food was good and so was the cause, so it was worth the frustration. I guess next time the Lions host a pork chop dinner, I'll remember to bring the Wusthof with me.

After dinner we had to return The Senator's friend to his home. The home that I had been to once and assumed I could find again. The home whose address is not listed in the phone book. The home whose phone number had been disconnected and whose new number was not in my possession.

I only took one wrong turn, but had I followed the directions issuing forth from the back seat, we would have been in South Dakota. By the time we found the right road, my head was pounding. Suppressing the urge to yell "shut up" is hard on the grey matter.

Once The Senator and I made it back home, I was in no mood to post. I didn't even have the energy to gloat over how The Governor bent to my will and ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The victory has dulled a bit, so I will only add...it was sweet.

One last note: Grandma and Grandpa, we got your postcards! The boys enjoyed them. The Senator now wants a horse and carriage. Hope you're having a great time and I hope the reunion goes well too!

To Jason

The line in the last post about billowing clouds of smoke and sirens reminded me that I forgot to needle my co-worker, Jason, about setting off the alarms at work the other day.

Um, Jase...perhaps you should just leave your house unlocked or store an extra set of keys under the doormat? Hey, I know. How about I get you one of those fake rocks with the hidden key storage underneath for a housewarming gift. Bet I could find one at the city-wide garage sale tomorrow.

Feel free to leave me a comment (you don't need to fill in the url line; just name and an email address) if you'd rather have the fake dog-poop that holds a key.

So Much To Brag About...So Little Time

The Outpost is facing another munchkin infestation, so I don't have much time to write. I've already been asked when I'm getting off the computer so they can play The Senator's dinosaur game.

I don't have time for details (perhaps tonight at 11), but The Governor and I went nose to nose at lunch today over whether or not a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was going down his gullet, on the floor, or in the trash.

And guess who won. Don't let the billowing clouds of black smoke and the sirens deceive you. Even the anti-christ couldn't manage a shut-out. Be sure to tune in at 11 for "High Chair Noon - A Mother's Victory Dance."

Spring Is In The House

Another great day at The Outpost. In fact, today captured what I feel is a perfect day, weatherwise. Cool enough to wear a sweatshirt yet warm enough to melt the Chapstick in your car when you park outside in the sun.

This is the kind of day that makes you itch to tackle outdoor projects, especially planting. You clean out the flower beds, you till the gardens, and some folks even get brave enough to start planting. When you plant in April around here, you are virtually guaranteed to have a May frost which will kill everything you lovingly put in, fertilized, and watered.

But then you get another nice day towards the end of May and your enthusiasm renews. And you spend another $200 at the garden center, only to have the second batch of plants and flowers destroyed in a severe thunderstorm in June.

A tornado in July finishes off batch three, and an August drought puts the dagger to batch four. September can bring your next frost, and you're left with a flower bed that looks much like it did in April. The only change is that your wallet is $850 lighter.

Ahhh, but on a perfect day like today who wants to look that far ahead. In another week or so tulips will be blooming, the larks will be singing hymns at heaven's gate (name that sonnet), and the ticks will be out in full force.

*sniff* God bless Minnesota.

Ahhh...Nothing Like The Smell of Fresh Paint

Good day today!

The VP's perfectionist, handy-man uncle has been around for a couple of days doing some painting and general fix-it stuff that I don't have the time or ability to do. I cannot begin to express how much I admire someone who can paint a room and not leave odd-looking brush strokes across the walls. I tried painting the mudroom (which only the dogs see) and was so embarrassed by the bad job, I had Uncle Larry come out and fix it.

Sorry, Mom. Along with cooking, painting and hanging wallpaper are skills I didn't inherit.

And poor Uncle Larry. He comes out for a couple of days and ends up staying a week because my list keeps growing. If I could just get him to move in with us, I'd be set. He could stay in the guest room (which he just painted) and my house would be in a constant state of renewal. Of course Aunt Jill is welcome to come too, especially if she can cook better than I can.

The next couple of days are going to be filled with preschool friends. The Senator and his buddies have started arranging playdates at school and then informing us mothers about these plans when we arrive.

"Mom! Tyler is coming over to our house this afternoon, and we're both going to Colin's house tomorrow."

Why yes sir. Will refreshments be required? Shall I set out the soccer nets or will you be entertaining inside today? Will there be anything else, sir? No? Very good, sir.

"Mom...please don't talk like that in front of my friends, okay?"

Punk.

I like having his friends over. They're a good bunch of kids. Plus I like scaring the scabs off 'em when I tell them we're having Canada Goose burgers for lunch with baby pheasant chips and gopher milk.

Time For An Intervention

Heh, heh, heh.

Maura left a comment earlier concerned that her dog looks like a vampire bat and therefore, might he be a Democrat?

So I had to go check out Maura's dog. (And her blog) Oh dear. I think you're in trouble.

Has he ever tried to unionize the other local dogs? Is he against wetting on the trees, preferring fire hydrants as a more "green" approach to urination?

Go over and check out Besmirched. Don't miss the photos.

By the way, I love stealing photos. Maura, if you have any objections to me pirating Otto for my blog, please let me know and I'll take him down.

He's adorable.

Sore Losers

The nursing home held an appreciation dinner last night for all of its volunteers. Good food and entertainment is provided, but we were really all there to find out who was going to walk home with the coveted "Volunteer of the Year" engraved mantle clock. Last year, Hoocher and I won. This was Hoocher's reaction after I came home and told him we weren't repeat winners.

Sorry, Hoo. They gave it to some old woman who has been donating her time for the past 17 years. But does she ever jump up on a bed with a resident and let them scratch her belly? Noooo. You were so much more deserving, Mr. Hoo.

As you can imagine, Hoocher was a little bit on the starchy side when we arrived at the nursing home this morning for our regular rounds. He was quickly mollified, however, with a bag of popcorn from Mrs. K. And when Mary put him in a headlock and rubbed his belly for half an hour...well, he almost could have congratulated the winner with a modicum of grace.

The day got even better when Nana and Buppa arrived home from an extended trip and came over to see the boys, both of whom acted like squirrels on crack when they saw their grandparents arrive.

Now tonight, The Governor is asleep, The Senator is winding down, The VP is finally home, and I am going to make it to bed before midnight for a change.

And we had a great soaking rain today, and I didn't even have to threaten God.

Me vs. The Weather

Big Storms! Wright County under Severe Thunderstorm Warning/Tornado Watch All Night! My small town mentioned BY NAME on the local news as a hot spot for BAD WEATHER.

Well, we need the rain, so when the hail started falling, I ran outside and did my best Stanley Kowalski imitation and started shaking my fists at the sky and yelling, "Bring it on!"

Apparently, I scare God.

We got about 40 seconds of hail followed by two minutes of soaking rain.

And I made The VP fix the drain spouts for this?

Sad Day for the Upper Midwest

The body of missing North Dakota college student, Dru Sjodin, has been found. I'm glad her family doesn't have to endure the torture of not knowing. I cannot begin to imagine the sadness and rage they must feel.

If they have the right guy in jail on this one, I hope the rest of his life is sheer misery.

Mascot Contest

For unknown reasons, I was thinking about the term "yellow dog Democrat" today. If memory serves, it refers to Democrats who would vote for a yellow dog before they'd vote for a Republican. Yes, yes, I could spend three minutes on Google and find out for certain, but if I'm wrong, it will ruin the contest, so just appease me.

I was thinking it's time to update that particular icon. The Democrats need a newly hued animal for this day and age. Something that captures a bit more of the vim and vigor of today's Democrat.

When I think "yellow dog Democrat," I picture a good ol' boy sitting on the front porch, loaded .22 in his arms, overweight Labrador by his feet saying, "Yew know something, Noah? I'd vote for Buster here afore I'd vote for that oily cowboy who's running again." Do you picture John Kerry elbow to elbow with this guy at the local bean feed? Nope, me either.

What the Dems need is an animal that conjures up the image of Hillary Clinton screeching declaring, "I would fly on a sponsored jet to Africa and search out the deepest, darkest cave and have one of my assistants grab the scariest denizen of that cave, and I'd vote for it!"

Which leads me to my choice: the brown bat.

He's a brown bat Democrat.

Has a great ring to it, huh? Easy to chant.

And Dan (another MN blogger) over at The Frozen Toaster already has an appropriate photo:

As with any contest, here's the legal stuff that, were this a commercial, would be read in a very fast voice:

This is a whimsical contest. Contest results bearing any similarity to any Democrats, real or imagined, is purely coincidental. Especially my mother, my grandma, and Natalie. Because I really like all of you. Any use of the above photo is prohibited without express, written consent from Dan. And while I'm thinking of it...Dan, may I have persmission to steal your photo off your blog and use it in my post?

An Outpost Celebration

Today is The Governor's birthday. He's two. I'm scared.

He opened his birthday presents this morning. He looked them over and immediately asked for his green light saber. Thanks, Aunt Sheila, for picking out the awesome gift. (And making my stuff look like used Kleenex.)

The present-opening was actually an improvement on the morning. The day started when I walked into his room and found him standing in his crib, patting his rear end and announcing, "I've got dirty pants, Mama!"

He wasn't lying.

I made matters worse when I pulled off his pajama bottoms. The diaper barrier was breached. Poop everywere. Enter The Senator who wants to give his brother a Happy Birthday hug. I holler, "Don't touch him!" Senator cries. The Governor starts wailing. Dogs start barking.

So I did what any good mother would do. I finished cleaning up and then said:

"Hey boys, should we have birthday cake for breakfast?"

Having instantly attained Superhero status, I headed to the kitchen followed by my cheering devotees.

Do I know how to celebrate or what?

Blogroll Addition

I believe I first found this guy on Bunsen's site. Anyone who comes with with Family Power Rankings deserves a spot on everyone's blogroll.

Make him a regular stop; he's over on the left.

Dick Clark, Revealed

Bunsen has another great interview; don't miss it.

Lessons

A brief re-cap of yesterday in which your most humble blogger imparts several, non-connected bits of wisdom for your improvement. Pencils ready?

“Bananas,” The Senator says, “plug me up.” I pass this along as a caution.

Leaf blowers are not the child’s tool they appear to be. Do not use them on a windy day. Unless, of course, your aim was to make a bigger mess than you started with originally. Also, leaf blowers are perverts. Several attempts were made by this twisted machine to remove my shorts.

If your two year old says, “Thank you, Mama,” when you tell him to go sit in the time-out chair, the chair has ceased to be a deterrent to bad behavior.

Gopher holes are an endless source of fascination to youngsters. Gopher holes with rusty gopher traps have an even greater attraction. If you have difficulty getting your child to come inside for dinner, put a rusty gopher trap in the middle of your kitchen table.

In a classroom full of parents and toddlers, you will be the only person not laughing when your child sits down in the middle of the floor and announces, “I have to toot, Mama. I have to go poo-poo.”

As dogs age, they, too, find a need for Depends undergarments.

I have several other pearls to share, but I feel obligated to make The VP aware of them before I further publically embarrass our family. One might argue such a consideration never stopped me before, but I try to make the token effort now and again.

Have a pleasant afternoon. I'm off to bake a birthday cake for The Governor. I'd invite you all over tomorrow for a little celebration, but I'm letting The Senator crack the eggs. Ever had crunchy birthday cake before?

P.S. Margaret, have an awesome trip to Ireland with your Mom! Buy her a pint or two for me. I'll pay you back. Honest.

Celebrities Uncensored!

I had no free time to post today. Fortunately for YOU, The VP emailed me the following so the day isn't a complete wash-out.

The caption leaves something to be desired. Anyone care to improve upon it?

Visitor or Resident?

I don't know if I've ever confessed this before, but I'm not a morning person. I rise early, but only because The Governor does. Social Services agencies tend to frown on throwing a box of cereal and a Tippee cup of milk over the crib rail and going back to bed.

So I'm not overly cheerful in the a.m., especially Tuesday mornings after a late soccer game and getting up extra early so Hoocher can have a bath before our nursing home visit. By the time we hit the Manor, however, I've recovered enough to pass as civilized. Usually.

Today Hoocher and I were sitting in Mary's room. Mary was formerly in the Alzheimer's Unit. I'm not sure why she moved out to the regular ward, but it happens from time to time. So I'm holding Mary's hand and trying to respond to her fairly incoherent sentences when one of the housekeeping ladies stops in with clean laundry. Mary said, "Oh how beautiful." I wasn't sure if she was talking about the woman, who did look rather fetching in an XXL purple uniform, or the laundry, but hey...ask too many questions - get too many unexplicable answers.

The housekeeping gal must have skipped her rotation in the Alzheimer's wing. She wanted to know what was beautiful. Mary starts laughing. Housekeeping Gal (HG) somehow takes the laughing personally. "What's so funny? What are you laughing at?" HG turns to me, "What's she laughing at?"

I wanted to borrow Mother Superior's ruler and rap this woman across the skull. How long have you worked here? What percentage of people here ever know why they're laughing? I answered, "She thinks you're a day lilly."

HG looks confused and leaves abruptly.

When in la-la land...

Not Appropriate For My Young Nephews

Heh.

I'm downstairs blogging, and The VP hollers from the top of the stairs, "Cathy, can you come up here for a minute? I want to show you something."

I kept typing and after a minute he adds, "I'm serious. I really need to show you something. I'm not just going to pull down my pants."

Yeah, sure.

Update: He wasn't crying wolf; there's a problem with the drain in the shower. Rats.

Hiding The Easter Baskets...From Mom

Easter turned out pretty well in spite of the snub from my fellow Republicans in the White House. I consoled myself by liberally raiding the boys' Easter baskets.

My folks came out with my older brother and his boys. My younger brother also made an appearance. Lots of food, lots of wine, lots of fun. Friday is The Governor's birthday, and so there were a few presents to open as well. The Governor was quite taken with the green lightsaber from his aunt and uncle. It lights up and makes noise whenever it strikes anything. Like his brother's head.

I wish everyone could have stayed longer.

One exciting note: I found out that The Senator likes cheesecake. *sniff* You always were my favorite, son.

Snubbed

It wasn't enough that he didn't invite me to brunch, but he didn't even call. Too busy rolling eggs on the White House lawn, I guess.

Chud.

I think nothing short of a Lincoln bedroom stay is going to secure my vote this November.

He's Always Got The Goods

Aelfheld once again comes through with a link to a great article.

A trip to the liquor store is in order!

Margaret, if you haven't already left for Ireland...you won't want to miss this one.

That's The Last $15 Of My Money The Republicans Will Ever See

I don't understand. I donated to the RNC. I got a SIGNED photograph of George and Laura. So where's my invitation to the White House Easter Brunch? Now I'm stuck. No where to go for Easter.

I guess we'll just have to host something here.

If any of my family is reading this, you're all welcome to come over on Sunday. Try not to think of yourselves as "second choice." I prefer "reliable backups." And Mom, I promise I won't tell any Democrat jokes. At least not until dessert.

Nothing A Cold Beer Couldn't Put Into Perspective

Yet another extended play day here at The Outpost.

The Governor took a fall and smacked his forehead on the cement first thing this morning as we were on our way to school. No blood but plenty of pink swelling. I felt like a negligent parent who didn't pay enough attention to my child...until we got to The Governor's classroom and saw the two year old girl with the cast on her broken wrist. Mom's not lookin' so shabby, now, is she, Governor?

The Senator, not to be one-upped by his younger brother, decided his ears hurt and that he must have ear infections. Against his wishes, I hauled him to the doctor and sat with smug confidence as she examined him. Good thing I kept my mouth shut and didn't let fly with the "you faking little grass snake" comment I planned to deliver. Bacteria have established red light districts in both ears.

We're a regular cesspool of germs around here.

After the doctor's visit, I hauled both boys into the cities to bring The VP some papers he had forgotten at home and needed for a meeting this evening. Then back home to an endless chorus of "He hit me!" and "Stop bugging me!" and "Mom, The Governor rubbed boogers in his hair!"

And the dryer broke.

Not all is gloomy and depressing. Since both boys are sick, both boys are also in bed early tonight. The VP is away at his meeting, and the dogs are both quiet. It's just me and St. Pauli Girl. Or it was. She's gone too.

Peace reigns for the time being. If I can just ignore the smell of musty wet clothes emanating from the laundry room, I might venture to say this evening has been pretty swell.

Almost Too Pooped To Post

Excruciatingly long day.

Like most Tuesdays, we headed into the nursing home this morning. Our visit went as most visits do...a little snuggling on the beds (Hoocher, not me), a few hand-outs (Hoocher, although I wouldn't say no), trying to avoid looking at the gob of mucus smeared in a resident's hair, and having one of the Alzheimer patients ask me to bring her a beer next week. She's a hearty German gal and misses her stout apparently.

After leaving the nursing home, we went to pick up one of The Senator's preschool buddies. Normally, having a friend over is a fairly low-maintenance affair, but today was a different story. Those two boys managed to dig out every aging toy that hadn't seen the light of day in months and was in need of fresh batteries. I felt like some sort of Toys 'R' Us surgeon wielding my miniature Phillips head screwdriver and performing Rayovac transplants.

After a full afternoon of hard play, we headed into the local elementary school for Kindergarten Round-Up. The Senator managed to succinctly predict all future school administrative speeches when, during the principal's welcoming words, he leaned over and said, "Mom, this is so boring!"

He hung in through the introduction of teaching and office staff, and perked up when he got to take a ride on the school bus. Visiting the classrooms was tolerable, and eating a cookie in the cafeteria with his preschool buddy was the highlight of the whole experience. Just before he went to bed, he said, "Mom, can you believe I'm going to be in Kindergarten?" I would have answered if I could have stopped crying.

Tonight we tooks the boys on some 4-wheeler rides through the woods and fields. If you're not from Minnesota, you may not understand how vital it is to suck every bit of life out of these few weeks when the weather is warm but the mosquitoes have not hatched. We will be living outdoors until the woods are alive with the hum of those blood-thirsty bastards.

Everyone else is in bed; time to drag my tired bottom out of this chair and join them. Although I could just put my head down on my arms..z...z...zzz....zzzz...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Oh I Gots To Get Me One Of These!

I saw this on over at Arguing with Signposts. Bryan found it at Besmirched. Image available at T-shirt Hell.

Can't you just see Damon wearing this one to work to pimp Jan?

Weekend Wrap-Up

Your most humble blogger spent last night at a party where a guest double-dipped repeatedly throughout the evening. Cheese fondue, spinach dip, salsa...nothing was safe. I wouldn't have put it past her to swig from the bottle of wine instead of pouring herself a glass. I've known this woman for ages; I've never seen her behave with such poor manners. I think I'm going to have to call her mother today.

And speaking of manners, I believe I have parented myself into a corner. Since both boys were able to talk, I've insisted they use "please" and "thank you" and other common courtesies. So how do you tell an almost two year old that he still has to eat his vegetables even though he most politely says, "No thank you, ma'am." The "ma'am" threw me. I think he picked that up from his brother who picked it up from Yosemite Sam.

Other happenings at The Outpost this weekend: we spotted an enormous fox out in the pasture by the chestnut tree, The VP cleaned out the garage, we discovered The Governor knows how to retain medicine in his mouth and spit it out when you've been lulled into believing he's swallowed it, and the convertible went in for a tune-up so C'MON WARM WEATHER!

Post Script: Nana and Buppa, we miss you on our walks.

It Was a Long Night, Ergo: A Long Post

Friday already? Jeez...where does the time go? Straight to the Urgent Care center, apparently, where it passes slower than your first kidney stone.

The Governor sounded so awful that I brought him to the UC center after dinner. The Senator came along for kicks and because leaving your 5 year old home alone for several hours tends to make the local police a bit edgy. Also, the booking photos always look so terrible when they're reprinted in the paper.

We arrive. We're booked, registered, triaged, and whisked promptly to a cell exam room. Here's where the second hand on the clock decided to take a siesta. In the lobby, where toys and books can be found, we encountered top-notch efficiency. Exam room: eternity passes and comes back for seconds.

The doctor we eventually did see was terrific. Diagnosis: ear infections and a cough that really can't be helped by anything other than time. Here's hoping it's the same time found on the lobby's clock.

Doctor leaves with a warning to stay put - the nurse will return with the Rx and discharge instructions. And we, you guessed it, W-A-I-T.

Nurse comes in with discharge instructions for a boy named Carter. Sorry. Not mine.

Both boys are bouncing off exam room walls like rabid squirrels in a humane trap. I open the exam room door and let them walk into the hallway for a break. The Governor takes off running. I grab him and he screams. Back to the room. The Senator is standing in the doorway of the room. "Get inside," I say. He doesn't move. "Come on, come on," I say loudly. He's fiddling with something on the door frame. He still doesn't move so I nudge him with my knee.

SCREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

The Senator is yelling and screaming. What I couldn't see because I was carrying the thrashing Governor is that my older boy had three fingers wedged in the strike plate on the door jamb and when I nudged him, he scraped a finger and got a small cut.

Small cut. To hear The Senator, you would have thought I divided him from skull to navel with a battle-ax.

Nurse returns with Governor's discharge papers and Rx. Both boys still screaming. The nurse starts to go over papers and I yell loud enough to be heard over the din, "Where do I sign?" She points, I sign, and we bolt for the parking lot.

Over to the Cub Foods Pharmacy because they have a drive-through window. Submit Rx with Governor's insurance card. Pharmacy tech says, "This prescription doesn't have his name on it. The label at the top is for a Linda Brown."

I let my head hit the steering wheel and almost started to sob. Pharmacy tech says, "Give me 15 minutes and come back." If there hadn't been a double-pane window between us, I would have kissed her.

Pharmacy tech calls Urgent Care, gets everything fixed. I return to drive-through window, pick up Rx, go home, get both boys in bed, and think about decanting a bottle of wine and grabbing a straw.

Can't wait to see what today brings.

Herring, Anyone?

It's shaping up to be another incredible day here at The Outpost. The Governor has croup. He sounds like an asthmatic harbor seal. Suggested treatment? Keep the patient in a steamy bathroom for ten to fifteen minutes and then rush him outside to inhale the cold air. At least that was the recommendation last winter when we dealt with this same illness. Now that Mother Nature has kindly turned up the thermostat, I was left wondering how to include the cold air part of the remedy. Ah-ha! After sweating it out in the steamy bathroom, I wisked The Governor to the kitchen and threw open the freezer door.

Same effect. Although last winter I didn't have to contend with The Governor grabbing a bag of frozen peas and whipping them to the floor. When the 1-1/2 pound block of frozen hamburger landed on my toes, I decided the treatment was complete.

Now I'm going upstairs to coach The Senator on how to deliver the line, "Bark like a dog!" It'll be really cute when he says it to his brother while we're at the grocery store today.

If any of you are overly concerned about me spreading The Gov's germs...don't go shop in Buffalo, MN today.