Blogging from the hospital, in what I'm now going to call Mom's Bi-weekly Abuse Sessions. Five or six hours in a confined space with my mother, she's sure this is her chance to irritate me to her heart's content, because what kind of asshole would walk out while they're mom's having chemo??
It's still early, but we started with, "Oh, Mexicans eat lamb? I didn't know that." So I said, yes, of course, and in case you weren't aware, Mexicans eat everything you eat, dummy. "Oh, just hotter though." It would almost be funny is she wasn't so willfully dense.
But we're here, chemo number 3 out of 12. But who's counting?
This weekend we're taking the kids to Oregon, IL (my new favorite vacation place) to Oregon Trail Days. We're going to stay in a tipi, go canoeing and watch all kinds of cowboy gun slinging and Native American dancing. I'm told it's where the Blackhawk indians lived, and the whole weekend is a big fundraiser. We're excited :) Okay, I'M excited.
Dammit, I have to go find a place to plug in my laptop before it dies. Maybe I could unplug that lady's oxygen over there....