At 3:00 this morning, Oliver had a horrible nightmare about someone taking and throwing away his beloved Tool Sheet. If you're unfamiliar with Tool Sheet, it's the sham cover that matches his comforter (covered with pictures of tools) but which immediately became his favorite-ever lovey and so has never been allowed onto a pillow for its stated purpose. The only space from Tool Sheet Oliver willingly agrees to, and even this is not an all-the-time OK, is when T.S. smells and must have a bath. As this dream was about T.S. being both taken and disposed of, I could understand his screams of terror and upset. He did not remember this awakening this morning, but I did, in large part because I never really got back to sleep. What slumber I was able to get was repeatedly interrupted by some bizarre and horrid butt pain that overtook me and which I could not escape and cannot explain.
A pleasant night, yes? Especially after two (strong) margaritas.
As such, today has been rough. I still can't remember if I ever brushed my teeth, but as I basically refused to go out in public, it doesn't really matter. Nutmeg and I snoozed for a bit while Ol was at school, and I'm exceedingly grateful that a great babysitter arrived at 2:30. I've been in bed in the basement writing ever since. Aah.
I had big plans for making all sorts of delicious dishes today, but instead I think T and I will have a leftovers meal and clean out the fridge. I also had big plans for working in the yard but as if we're moving seasonally backwards, it's cold and rainy and to plant my tomatoes and beans would just be sentencing them to immediate demise. Boo on this weather!
What I won't be doing is looking at any more news. It's just awful today: death everywhere.
