Do you remember back in December when Harper had that weird fever thing that ended up being an unusual strep strain?
She had the weird fever thing again last week. No other symptoms, just a fever that went as high as 103.6. Sadly, the only time the doctor could get us in was thirty minutes after Harper performed a fashion show for me—complete with a black velvet dress and black eyeshadow. (I let her keep the dress on for the appointment, but made her spend the entire twenty minute drive scrubbing her eyelids with makeup remover pads.) The verdict? “I think it’s a sinus infection.”
By the way, stay away from the internet when you’re searching out information on high fevers with no other symptoms.
Today I’m at a bit of a standstill with my latest freelance project, so I’m meeting my mom for lunch, getting a haircut, and thinking about cleaning the bathroom and the kitchen for Meredith’s sleepover on Friday. (Harp is attending her very first sleepover that evening, so we’re letting Meredith have a friend over for the night. Sadly, because of the weird timing, we’ll be missing one of my favorite church services of the year. It’s a quiet service. A powerful service. It’s the service that killed me dead two years ago when the flaming wick from the candle lighter’s big golden candle lighting tool thinger dinger broke off and fell onto the aisle carpeting—forcing the candle lighter to do a hilarious little dance to extinguish the flame. I could barely hold myself together, and then I started thinking about the time I watched a fly die in church and the time my thumb busted open and started squirting blood in church, and I can barely type right now because the tears are starting to roll.)
Sunday is Easter. Last Easter was my very worst Easter ever.
I just realized that I’m spending this entire post linking to myself. (Please know that right before I begin each new paragraph, I smile at myself in a mirror for twenty seconds. Well, hello there, Lady! Hi, Lady! Lady! You’re my night in shining armor, and I love you.)
Four years ago I wrote backwards on my face with eyeliner for Easter, and then I almost got sued. To keep with my me! Me! ME! theme, here you go.
Yes. The paper towels are off of the holder. Please know that we replaced that ridiculous paper towel holder after finally admitting that unscrewing the top to replace the roll was just too much of an ordeal for us. What a living hell that thing was.
Incidentally, the very eyeliner I used to write on my face fell into the toilet yesterday morning. Gone forever. (As much as I love my eye doctor, I don’t want to risk needing to see him because I’ve been blinded by makeup that may or may not have been contaminated by human waste.) ((And, yes. I don’t use eyeliner very often. After having it for more than four years, it was probably time for that thing to go. I know makeup tends to last longer than raw chicken, but I can’t really keep any of it straight.))
Hey! I finished two knitting projects. Let’s talk about them next time.