I’d like to talk about My Life. There’s a problem, you see…for every blog-worthy good thing that happens to me, there are 50 gajillion whine-worthy things.
I hate feeling like I’m whining.
Even when the whine is justified.
(and I feel like I’m whining almost every time I post.)
Right now, Dan is telling me “you’re in the WRONG SPOT” through clenched teeth because he wants to play nickjr.com.
Joe is in the bathroom merrily unrolling the tp while he sits and *ahem* thinks.
Alannah is upset. Horribly, awfully upset. Y’see, she went skating last night. Her new-to-you rollerblades need new wheels, so she ended up renting skates ANYWAY. A boy tripped her in the snack bar. Her wrist still hurts. A lot.
She won’t let me take her to the ER for an x-ray. She’s afraid she’s broken another bone – and it’s the same arm.
Our choices are to go to the ER, or for her to “man up” and wait til the Dr. office opens on Monday. Thus far, she’s elected to “man up” with SERIOUS whine (no cheese).
Did I mention she’s upset?
Mom, bless her heart pointed out that it might only be cracked.
Thanks for the comforting words, Mom.
Update -For those concerned that I may not be taking my daughter’s pain and “possibly broken” arm seriously, I offer this conversation:
Alannah, how bad is your pain on a scale of 1-10, with when you broke your arm being a 10.
It’s about an 8?
OK, then we’ll need to go to the ER.
How long will that take?
No guarantees – we could be in and out in 2 hours, it could be 2AM. It depends on how busy they are.
Oh, OK. *walks off and has a whispered conversation with B*
“Mom, I’ve come to a decision. I want to go to B’s house and hang out, and we can go to the ER tomorrow after church.”
I soooooo don’t think so.