My brain is all, duuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrr.
The weekend was a whirlwind of preparing for Aaron to go out of town. While he was hyperventilating, I was trying to keep him calm.
"We'll be fine. Have a fun a trip."
"Stop worrying so much, we'll be fine"
"I know this is your first trip out since I broke my foot, we'll be fine. Don't worry about it."
And I was fine.
Until Darwin got sick last night.
Vomit, screaming, monstrous scratching ensued.
By 2 am I thought life would be much better if I'd get the gumption up to stab my ear drums with needles. Certainly, that had to be better than listening to Dora and Boots contemplate, "River, Big Rock, Crocodile Lake" and Darwin screaming, "Backpack! Back pack! Backpack!" and "Tiper, no tieping! Tiper, no tieping!"
At 4:30, I finally decided, fuck this shit, and took Darwin upstairs to bed with me. The little punk was asleep in two seconds.
He popped up at 7 am happy as clam and ready to start the day.
Now, please excuse me as I go bang my head against wall. I'm hoping for a concussion to put me out of my misery.