Yo ho yo ho.

You will please excuse my extended absence and silence won’t you? Life has been fraught with many frightening things lately.

The apple of my eye turned five last week and that alone has turned me into a blubbering idiot. And by idiot I mean a person who cannot comprehend or come to terms with an aging son who most likely will turn into something hairy, stinky, and hormonal. Yes, this is beyond comprehension. I just cannot envision it or what I will do with such a testosterone-riddled creature. Any tips? We’re practically there already since the other day he told me he was never going to speak to me again (although he did break into tears immediately after saying it, instead of stealing the family car).

Anyway, Bosco requested a birthday party that involved superheroes, pirates, and Ironman. And I said okay, pirates it is, because I look for any excuse to bring the term “bilge rat” into my repertoire. The party itself was fun, despite the Husband’s uncharacteristic worries about kids staining the carpet with their drinks. That really threw me for a loop. And at the end of the day our newly crowned five-year old said he felt like the luckiest boy alive. Well, shoot.

Then all was well, until a couple days later. I’ll just say these two things: food poisoning, laundry. First Bubba (who escaped the worst), then Bosco, then me, then the Husbo. Then with a freshly gutted husband on the mend he vowed to never throw up again. And not knowing what the culprit was or if it was really food poisoning at all, everything in the house was tossed or sanitized. I do feel for him. It was horrible for all involved but for some reason when things such as these strike him down it sounds like a freight train, where as everyone else is more like a measly old diesel truck. Poor freight train.

And so that was last week. New day. New dawn. The house is a mess.

I should have kept this sign up longer probably.