It's quiet...too quiet

Sorry for the lack of postage yesterday, but while Mama Dunn's cataract surgery went perfectly, according to the doctor, there was much confusing, crying, and temper-tantrum-throwing afterward. Plus, Jacob got ill, too.

Here's what happened. I loaded up MD and The Progeny in the car, drive just a few minutes down the road to the hospital, and check in at the surgery center. I'll admit to being suspect of a little prejudice in typing this, but The Progeny was pretty doggone well-behaved for at least an hour. But there's only so much waiting a soon-to-be-one-year-old can do, and Jacob he ventually hit his limit. I left MD, left my cell phone number with the receptionist, and took Jacob for a ride.

Before too long, it was time for some food consumption, so I drove back home and dispensed some food. Don't ask me what it was, because it all looks the same when it's been pureed into oblivion. Jacob was happy, but he was also sleepy by now, so it was upstairs to the Childhood Bedding Unit, where he was soon blissfully out.

Of course, you know what came next. He'd just gotten good and asleep when the clinic called for me to come get Mama Dunn. So, as much as I hated to do it, I had no choice but to go roust Jacob from his sleep, then make another run south to the surgery center. And, as incredulous as you may be (and you've always been an incredulous lot), he was actually very nice through the whole ordeal, if you discount the usual few minutes of "Why'd you do that?" grumpiness that usually accompanies one of his wakenings.

But the weed of crankiness sometimes grows slowly, as I was soon to find out. All the shuffling had completely hosed Jacob's sleeping schedule, as well as his eating schedule, playing schedule, etc., and he was not all that disposed to resuming his regularly scheduled programming any time soon. Plus, Mama Dunn's surgery requires her to not bend below the waist or do any heavy lifting for two weeks, which means no picking up Jacob. And that's not good. Daddy arms are okay for comforting, Mother arms are better, but nothing's as good as Grandma's. Jacob went to sleep with his best girl still in love with him, and woke up dumped like yesterday's coffee grounds.

Thankfully, The Lovely Missus had already planned a short excursion to her sister's house, so we received a short reprieve from the fussing, which I'm sure will resume with full force this afternoon. Oh well. I've been considering shaving off all my hair (that's a bit of fanciful language there, my saying "all my hair," as if there's a lot; I'm like that long-forgotten comedian who said that he didn't have hair, he had hairs). I guess it'll be just as effective to pull it out as to shave it.

I'll have to write either at night, while Jacob is asleep, or while TLM is home for the foreseeable future, so you're liable to get updates at 1:30 a.m. or not at all at times. Please try to go on with your lives, nonetheless.

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