Now With Mouth Breathing!

I still have this dumb cold. I stayed home Friday, I have been napping and taking vitamin C, and so far? I have achieved exactly one thing: to pass the cold along to Tankbaby. Um, whee? Because now I have a headache, runny/stuffy nose, sore throat AND a cranky, teething, drooling, juicy-nosed baby who keeps forgetting he can breathe through his mouth, rather than snort and snuffle and wake himself up. Why, it's almost as soothing as one of those lavender-scented eye pillows. Except, you know, with boogers.

On the upside, today MOTH recovered a bench we have in the living room that was previously equipped with baby-cranium-stabbing corners. It now has a lovely mossy green upholstery with padding around all of its poky-out parts, thus to better protect the Tank's little bald head when he inevitably whacks it while trying to stand. We picked it out last night at the Big-Ass Fabric Store we frequent (yes, we frequent. I love having a husband who will roam miles of upholstery and have earnest opinions on the amount of gold in this one versus the cleaning nightmare that is silk. Just gay enough, that's how I like 'em). That's an exciting Saturday night at the Falling house, folks...upholstery shopping, followed by drive-thru food that we ate in front of Tank, all the while telling him that the single thawed peas on his high chair tray were "just as good" as our Yukon Gold waffle fries.

And while I had planned on making up for the past days' absence with a nice long post, I'm afraid I'm bailing on you. I need to go to work tomorrow, and I still haven't kicked this cold, so I really ought to begin my night of Inevitable Poor Rest, Now With Mouth Breathing! It took me 45 minutes to put Tankbaby down (um, to sleep, not like a horse with a broken leg, although around minute 41 I was thinking about it...), and sadly, those were your 45 minutes, people. I blame the baby. You all should write him sternly worded letters.