sunday, sunday, sunday!

What a day!  Whew.  I woke up this morning to the hubs nudging me on his way out the door for work to let me know that Annie's little friend who stayed the night just barfed on the couch.  It is 8 AM on a Sunday.  Awesome.  Baby Estie starts to scream hysterically shortly after Benny leaves.  I come downstairs to assess how green Annie's friend is while I feed Estie a bottle.  Halfway through Estie's breakfast, little Suzy (not her real name) begins puking quietly into a large red mixing bowl from my kitchen.  If you ever get the chance to take a bowl full of someone else's vomit from them and pour it sloppily down the toilet, don't do it.  Just go ahead and pass that up.  Anyway, Suzy's dad and brother are at the door within ten minutes to take her home.  I help her get her things gathered (forgetting her toothbrush - don't they always?) and then realize too late that for the second time this week, Suzy's ten year-old brother is politely trying to avoid staring at the impressive cleavage created when holding the baby squishes my boobs up and out of my house-only tank top.  Classy.  After we get Princess Pukesalot out the door, I get a text from her mom saying that their neighbors' kids have the flu, and Suzy has probably come down with it.  Good deal.  Estie already has a cold; what's a little influenza, right?  I call my mother-in-law and cancel our cousin coming to meet the baby, since we are all probably festering petri dishes of disease at this point.  Later, though, my girlfriend comes over for our lunch date anyway, because she's an idiot.  That's why we're friends.  We take Annie to the park because I had promised her all week that I would - even though she doesn't have a friend with her anymore, which means I'LL actually have to play with her.  Who doesn't love seeing a grown woman flailing a foot off the ground on too-short monkey bars?  EVERYONE doesn't.  So we get to the park and realize it's not the park that has the cool water features Annie has been telling me about.  And it's like MILLION degrees outside.  No trees, no shade - it's Colorado.  After a phone call to my mom-in-law to clarify the locale of this mystical watery place, we pack up and head across town to the right park.  We get there, unload, traverse this enormous hill and walk about a mile down a bike path with Annie assuring me the whole time that this is the way to the water.  It's like I'm following the messiah through the dessert - except the messiah is a sweaty eight-year old girl in a ruffly swimsuit and flip flops.  And it turns out she did know the way.  But when we finally get to the water feature, the damn water isn't turned on, because it's April, and Colorado only believes in outdoor water fun from June through August, apparently.  Nevermind that it's hotter and drier than toast points in hell.  Back up the path, over the hill, and into the regular, sandy-bottomed play area, where Annie frolics for approximately ten minutes before declaring she is uncomfortably warm and her dry suit is chafing her hoo hah.  Hey, at least I didn't have to hit the monkey bars.  When we get home I realize the half hour I accumulated in direct sunlight has actually produced some color on my shoulders.  Unfortunately, my maiden name is Kennedy, so the "color" is pink, not tan.  It's not a good look.  But it only stings a little when I forget to be careful in the shower and scrub the shit out of my shoulders with a nubby washcloth.  It'll be a nice, hateful scarlet in the morning I'm sure.  After dinner, we play our favorite game of Interrupted Sorry before Annie's bedtime.  For anyone not familiar with this game, it's alot like Interrupted Uno and Interrupted Monopoly, where you just play by the regular rules, except you also play your opponent's turn when your opponent has to get up and tend to a fussy baby.  It's pretty much the only kind of game we play around here.  I am now sitting on the couch next to the hubs, both of us pecking away at our respective laptops.  What's that you say?  I've had a long, weird day, and I should stop typing and go cuddle with my husband?  Well then!  Don't mind if I do.