There should be flags on certain prescription refills. Some people just shouldn’t have to jump through hoops or wait overlong for their meds. I submitted my prescription refill online yesterday, showed up at noon today, was told they didn’t have it, came back at four, waited thirty minutes for service, they hunted around for it some more, and finally came back with an alternative, but the same! drug.
Phil had driven down to check on me, and I took that opportunity to go without the kids. Of course that meant I only had to take one child with no shoes. I was standing there with a chattering Daphne in my arms, behind a couple with four missing teeth between them (that one was for Meghan—you called it, sweetheart), waiting with forced composure, praying for calm, so that I could just COLLECT MY ANXIETY MEDICATION AND GO HOME so I could clean the house and feed the kids and pack for the funeral tomorrow.
So NO, everything is not okay, and NO, there is nothing anyone can do, but THANK YOU for offering. Thank everyone who actually offered, that is.
Like my eldest, for instance. Logan offered to “babysit” the other two so I could mop floors. Apparently this consists of pushing eveyone around so that they all come in at thirty-second intervals to complain of injustice. I collared him and said, “The challenge and responsibility of babysitting is to NOT lay hands on your charges, and to PREVENT or RESOLVE problems.” He burst into tears and ran off to his room, shouting that he was a HORRIBLE babysitter.
And then he came back to sit next to me and cry and I finally said, “Look, you’re doing fine, I was just giving you direction. If you want to be successful you have to take the high road and not get involved in the fighting.”
“I’m a terrible babysitter. WAAAAAAAAAH!”
“You did a fine job, in fact, having you babysit was better than having you cry next to me while I’m cleaning and working. This is worse than the other.”
“AAAAHHHHHHHH that’s a terrible thing to say. YOU’RE SO MEAN! It was bad enough being a bad babysitter, and you just said this was WORSE! WAAAAHHHH!” All down the hall. Good grief. I’m not so much with the tact today, am I?
And just now? Daphne asked for nail polish. Like that’s the perfect way to unwind. Arsenic Hour is only starting to get rolling. Maybe we can pop in a tape of Barney and pipe it through my stereo speakers. Then we’ll go feed the ants.