Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Making Rice Pudding in the Wee Hours

It's 2:56 am and I'm making rice pudding and trying to figure out how Pinterest works. So, you probably can see that my Nick is still feeling sick, though his self-proclaimed vomit cannon has shut down. He's still nauseated and weak. That's why I'm making rice pudding at 2:58 in the morning. It's five minute rice, so it'll be ready in about three more minutes.

The thing about stomach flu rice pudding is that you have to keep it simple. No raisins, no cinnamon, no vanilla, just rice, milk, and sugar. Well crap. Nick says he wants the raisins and cinnamon and stuff, but I really don't want to see all that again. I don't. On the other hand, since rice pudding is one of my carbohydrate nemesis's - what is the plural of nemesis, nemesii? - maybe hanging around as rice pudding comes back up and disposing of it will put me off it forever.

That happened to me once. I got a nasty stomach flu and the last thing I'd eaten before it hit was a tuna sandwich. Couldn't eat tuna for six years after that and it still doesn't smell good when Mike makes a tuna salad sandwich in the morning.

By the way, the plural of nemesis is nemeses.

So, I'm probably not going to set the alarm for school tomorrow. You could probably have guessed it, but the boy - remember the boy? - says he is tired and weak, but not sleepy at all. Not. Sleepy. At. All.

Just shoot me now.

How many more movies can we watch? Technically, I'm not watching, but he is and the noise has been going constantly since Sunday minus a couple of hours this afternoon. Oh, I long for the quiet sounds of the refrigerator and the ticking of baseboard heaters. It gives me a chance to think. I don't mind music either. It's not constantly changing my story.

So now, it's 3:27 am. The rice pudding is done and hanging in there pretty well. I don't hear too much groaning from the spot in front of the television. We've had a change in DVDs and Nick informed me that his stomach muscles are sore. Well, no shit Sherlock. I forget, sometimes, that he hasn't suffered through enough of these vomit cannon episodes to know how they work.

I'm going to leave him to his own devices now. He can come get me if he needs me. It might put me in the realm of 'bad mom,' but he's kept it down since this morning and can stand to feel sick in the room by himself while I sleep in a real bed. This recliner napping just doesn't work all that well. I'm never warm enough, the volume in the room is too high, and the cat always sees it as an opportunity to lie on my knees.

Alright then. Wish the poor boy some luck.

Thank you for listening, jb

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