NeoCitran

Theoretically, that stuff was supposed to help me sleep.

In actual practice, though, it kept me up (no more than dozing, that is) until nearly 2:00 a.m. Then, just as I was getting tired again, the sore throat came back, because the medicine had worn off.

It's a good thing I'd already planned to be home sick today.

school parking

I looked out the window a moment ago, hoping to see Piet pulling into our driveway with my non-dm cough syrup in hand.

It is five minutes before the bell rings at the school across the street. It is raining. Hence, every parent who isn't actually at work at this time decided to drive their child the two blocks to school, rather than have the little darlings get wet or carry an umbrella. Our street is impassable for about ten minutes every morning, and rainy mornings are much worse.

There was a white pickup truck parked across our driveway. There were cars legitimately parked in front of our house and every other house on the street, so there were no actual parking spaces. Instead of dropping their child off and leaving, though, this family decided to park illegally in front of our driveway and turn off the motor, keeping their child safe and warm for the last two minutes before the bell rang.

I put my parka over my pyjamas, jammed my sockless feet into my slippers, and went out to talk to them.

"Excuse me, but you're blocking our driveway," I said in my croaking sick-voice. "My husband will be home any minute and will have nowhere to park."

They demurred, and said they'd move. Last I saw, they were moving, all right - with Junior still in the car.

Heaven save us from parents who won't let their kids get a drop of rain on them, but see no problem with having the TV babysit them every afternoon.

The bell just rang, so every car on our street is now trying to exit their parking spots and go home at exactly the same time. I wonder how the kids manage to sing along to the national anthem with all that honking.

My day at Home

I said a total of fifteen words all day from the time Piet left until the baby got home. That was enough to tell a telemarketer that I wasn't interested and didn't want to talk about it. She let me go in record time.

I got some excellent advice and validation of my day off from mr_weasel. Thanks, Brad!

I slept nearly two hours, from just after one until Oma called at 3:00. Essentially, I got as much sleep as Elizabeth did. I drank four cups of decaf tea, had a roast beef sandwich with mustard because we're once again out of mayonnaise and miracle whip, though I certainly didn't eat it all, and typed the 1500 or so words that I posted earlier. It's going to be a good weekend for writing. I can feel the creative juices flowing.

I got an MSN lesson in knife fighting from redstorm which was very educational. I could now go to a larp and actually pretend to have some idea what I was doing! More importantly since I'm not into larping, I can write about knife fights and sound intelligent. Now I just have to turn that teensy weensy bit of knowledge into a lesson from Sal to Annarisse. :)

Right now I've got a baby standing behind me on the computer chair, playing peek-a-boo, pointing at pictures on the screen saying, "Who dat? Maman? Who dat?" and switching alternately between Jingle Bells in English and a Dutch version of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. I have no idea what that song is about; Opa taught it to her, obviously, and I don't know enough Dutch or German to make out what the words mean. It's cute, though. And her accent right now is better than mine will ever be. In any case, cute toddler stories are certainly in abundant supply around here.

I also finished the bib I was making for a baby shower, which took place on Wednesday at school. Oh well. It's not like a two-week-old baby is in immediate need of a fancy crocheted bib, and I need to get a snap for it tomorrow, anyway. There's no closure method in the pattern, so I need to come up with one. I'll give it to the dad, who is the gym teacher at our school, on Monday.

Time to get dinner for the sprout, following which we will both get dolled up and head out to see Opa in full regalia as Santa. Or at least, Elizabeth will head out, picked up by Oma and Opa. I might stay home. I'm still rather dopey.

Snippet

Elizabeth: I wof you, da-y.
Piet: I love you too, but you can't have my fries!