Poker Feet

Poor little Gavinator ran a temperature all evening long last night. He went to bed in his own room without a fight but when the husband came home from bowling he grabbed the little man and put him in bed with us.

Gavin woke up around 3 am and was burning hot. He was so hot that rather than feeling like I was being stuck with a regular old poker every time his little feet jabbed me in the side during the night, it felt as though I was being jabbed with a poker just used to get a fire going. The husband got the motrin and a sippy cup of water and I stayed awake to encourage him to drink all of his water. Gavin sat straight up in bed after taking his medicine to sip on his water and just started talking.

Gavin: "Mama, play outside?"
Me: "No, baby. You're sick and it's nighty night time."
Gavin: "Not sick, feel fine."
Me: "You're sick, baby. Didn't you just take medicine?"
Gavin: "Yep, suuuuuuuure did!"
Me: "Then no playing outside."

Pause for the boy to think things over...

Gavin: "Mama, play outside?"
Me: "No, Gavin. Go nighty night. We'll play outside tomorrow."
Gavin: Allllllrrrriiiiiggghhhhhtttt, mama."

I turned out the lights and he tossed and turned a few times. I asked him if he was hot and he told me yes so I offered to get a cold washcloth for his forehead. He said ok and was all excited over the idea of a nice, cool washcloth to cool his burning head. I got up and wet a washcloth with cool water but when I placed it on his forehead he was all "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! WASHCLOTH WET!!!!! DRY WASHCLOTH!!!! DADDY, DRY PINK WASHCLOTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I quickly banished the washcloth out of his sight (must be out of sight.. wouldn't want to anger the demons further by merely having to look at the washcloth that they had moments before requested) onto the floor and he continued to reprimand me for touching him with the cold, wet pink washcloth that HE- not one minute before- had asked for. Typical Gavin: says one thing and totally wants something else.

On another split personality note, it was rather awkward around Bert today. He was all weird and said something about not being able to give me what he really wanted to give me for my birthday but I just ignored him and made it a point to avoid him all day. I did talk to MC about what went down on Friday and I told him the whole story- including the part where Bert told me that I had "poor taste" for choosing to hump MC. At the end of filling in MC on all the gory details, he was totally concerned with just one minor detail of the events of Friday and was all "w-w-w-w-w-wait a minute! He thinks it is poor taste for you to hump me???"

HELLO!!! We never humped!!! Who cares what kind of taste it is!!!

Gotta love men. Never mind the fact that in some psycho's fantasyland he is cheating on his wife by humping me; he was just concerned that in aforementioned fantasyland, some psycho thinks it is "poor taste" for me to hump him.

Speaking of men, I did get a man's perspective on the whole drama for this mama situation. I've mentioned "C" a couple of times before and he checks in the ol' blog from time to time and he sent me this e-mail today after reading all the recent going ons:

Caught up on the blog today (that’s how I realized I missed your birthday), and for someone who claims to have no life, there sure seems to be a lot of craziness going on. The whole Bert and MC thing made me laugh. Don’t lose faith in the belief that men and women can be friends without sex getting in the way. You can still think of me as a friend and won’t have to worry about sex!!! Although, come to think of it, I’ve seen When Harry Met Sally dozens of times so maybe that makes me gay and that wouldn’t technically qualify as a man/woman friendship.

So there you have it. Not only do men watch When Harry Met Sally "dozens of times", they can also be friends with women without wanting sex.

I have to admit that after reading "C's" e-mail, two things popped into my mind:

1. Oh. My. God. I used to kind of sort of date a man who has watched When Harry Met Sally... on purpose... not once but "dozens" of times (you think you know someone)

and

2. Were three exclamation points really necessary? Must one really be that excited over NOT wanting to have sex with me? I mean, come on.

Don't get me wrong, I don't like the idea of men who aren't the husband wanting to have sex with me and I certainly don't want to have sex with anyone else, but I really think I don't like idea of men NOT wanting to have sex with me even more or being three-exclamation-point excited over not wanting to have sex with me.

Being a woman is so confusing. Say one thing and totally mean something else.

Ah-hah. So that's where he gets it.