A No Noodle Day

I should have known what kind of day it was going to be when I opened up a can of chicken noodle soup and there were no noodles. Not a one. I looked at the photo on the label. Yes, it was chicken noodle soup. Right then, I should have gone back to bed. But nooooo, I had to soldier on.

William was feeling better, but Lauren felt a bit under the weather. After a little first aid on her, I dealt a little with the general house chaos before setting off to volunteer at the thrift store. There, mountains and boxes of donated items were overflowing everywhere. Broken glass, pure junk and Christmas items were mixed in with items of real value. Both my visiting nephew and my son wanted to come to "help", and yet were ready to leave after the first fifteen minutes. And, I would have been happy to have Lauren come get them, except the phone was dead at home, no doubt from the power outage we had for unknown reasons earlier in the day. I experienced my first on the volunteer job injury by accidentally kneeling on broken glass shards that I didn't see. I wonder if I can get workers' comp?

After the shop closed, leaving mountains of stuff still unsorted, we headed to the grocery to take evasive action so that nephew will not starve to death.

"It's obvious that we have different tastes in food," he informed me.

Yes, I told him, I don't only eat white things. And, I'm not a vegetarian. (As one comedian put it, if God didn't mean for us to eat animals, why did he make them out of meat?) Nephew will eat hot dogs, however, but asked me not to say how they made them. And hot dogs are not white, so one point for Nephew.

Driving home, we continued our luck by having a train roll through town. The track runs east-west, and I, going north, cannot get around it without driving a long way out of my way. So we sat. Once home, I prevailed upon the boys to give one last effort and carry up the groceries I had in a basket. Too heavy. So I gave Nephew the lighter basket, and he preceded me up the stairs. Poor thing, his Tourette's causes him to gag somewhat, and on the way up the stairs, he threw up. Into the basket. William had to run around to the front of the house to come in, fearful that he would get it on himself.

Gathering towels to clean up, Anna told me that she was not going to her art class tonight, as she was feeling bad now, too, with a headache and fatigue. Could I please call her teacher? Only, the phone still doesn't work. I cleaned up the vomit, fixed the phone (by unplugging and replugging in the answering machine which must have been zapped by the power surge), put away the groceries, found Tylenol for Anna, called the teacher, and found snacks for the boys, tired out as they were from all their hard work at the thrift store.

And then the final insult. I read my email and found that my YouTube video of the gelding of a miniature horse somehow violates their community guidelines and has been removed. I am on report. I read all the guidelines, and cannot see how it does violate it, unless some "wuss" thinks it is too graphic. Myself, I found it educational and had very many emails thanking me for it. All I can say is "WUSS". (I pulled that word from my childhood. Don't even know what it means. Don't tell me, it'll spoil the mystery of it.) If I mess up again, I'll lose my account. And then sign up with my dog's name.

It has just been a no-noodle day.