Like Tequila and Sleeping Pills Without The Hangover

I've been a little under the weather lately. We'll blame it on a water bottle although it would be more fair to lay the blame directly where it belongs which is my occasional bursts of magnificent stupidity.

I like to drink water and more specifically I like to drink it from a water bottle. I even have a personal preference for Deer Park sports bottles.

Before you label me as some sort of water-centric nutjob (which I may be but let me plead my case first), I have reasons for this preference. I have small children. Small children that also like water. They like it on the carpet. They like it on the dog. They have even been known to pour it on the couch, and until it dries that's just no fun for anyone.

The sports bottle design slows down the release of water just long enough for me to rescue the dog if I'm quick enough.

Not that she couldn't use the bath.

Therefore I tend to covet these Deer Park water bottles and I will re-use them as long as I deem sanitary and until Jamie figures out that they make a fun crackly noise when he stomps on them.

So I was emptying the back of the van after a trip to Target and spotted an empty Deer Park sports bottle. I took it into the house and rinsed it out and proceeded to drink from it the rest of the day. I figure several strains of various water-borne parasites and bacterium were thrilled to find they had discovered a new, and far more habitable host than the empty water bottle that had previously been baking in the sun in my van for God knows how long.

And I've pretty much spent the last two days trying to evacuate ALL of them from my body. Often.

To add insult to injury I woke up yesterday with my right eye swollen shut from what can only be presumed some sort of bite. Probably a spider. Because I hate the little bastards and they know it. It was probably revenge for my attempt at genocide and he felt he was doing his part to avenge thousands of his brethren.

It's been a long time since I had to take Benadryl for any reason. Parenthood and Benadryl don't mix and I found out why yesterday.

I did at least take the precaution of putting Meredith to bed first, but I surrendered myself to the couch and have only vague memories of older children asking "Mommy can I do this? Mommy can I eat this? Mommy do you mind if we play this?"

The result being that my house looked like it had survived an invading army and the spoils of war were left strewn across the battlefield that was my kitchen and living room.

On a positive note, I had a very nice nap for the first time in years.