Men! Boys! And other gross things.

Aunt D replied to an email I sent yesterday about Daddy to let me know Bubba did not drive Daddy to the ER on Tuesday. He drove himself. Princess had already told me that earlier in the day. I was less than happy about it. Daddy's friend Denny was in the car with him, but I would have felt much better knowing Denny had driven. I told Daddy as much last night. "There's a new family rule. You are not allowed to drive if your blood sugar is 600." He kept saying, "Honey, I felt OK. I was OK." To which I replied, "Just because you felt OK, doesn't mean you're going to stay OK. Next time, just let Denny drive." Daddy said it's not fair to make rules after the fact. Then he defended himself saying, "Grandpa M&M drove himself to the hospital when he was having a stroke." That was about 3 years ago...and I said, "No driving during strokes either!" Something is wrong with these men.

Lets add onto this the fact that Grandpa M&M doesn't like to use his walker. He's giving QM & Grandma fits. Grandma has yelled at him. Mama has yelled at him. I'm not sure if he's just forgetting to use it, or if he's being stubborn. He does use it at times, but not at all times (like his PT told him he needs to). Mama said she's tired of finding seeing his walker in the living room when he's no where around.

AND...Bucka, who is also diabetic, got under the house this week to work on phone lines & water lines. The underside of their house is a belly crawl space...VERY narrow, and it's been hot....VERY hot. Busha hadn't heard him in a while, so she went outside to check on him. He was crawling out from under the house when she got outside. "Get me something to drink with sugar in it. My blood sugar's dropped." When she took his blood sugar it was 24!

Last night I told QM, "I have had it with these men! I'm going to hand cuff Grandpa to his walker so he can't forget to use it. You know how they install breathalyzers in alcoholic's vehicles so the car won't start if they don't blow clean? I'm going to hook up a glucose meter to Daddy's car so it won't start if his blood sugar is high. And after that I'm going to epoxy Bucka & Busha's crawl space door closed. Mold be damned."

On the FarmHand front, last night I made Mac & Cheese for dinner (don't judge me). B.B. was sitting at the table with his bowl of macaroni but nothing to eat it with. "B.B. you need to come get a spoon or a fork out of the drawer."
"No, you bring me one, Mommy."
"No, B.B. you can come get it."
"No, Mommy, you hav'a bring it a me a'cause (incoherent mumbles)."
"What did you say?"
"(More incoherent mumbles)"
"Bud, I can't understand you. Look up, speak slowly & a little louder." (The frustration was rising at this point)
"You hav'a bring it to me a'cause you're my sweet girl. You always give me hugs and kisses and you're my sweet girl."
"Really?! Forget the mac and cheese, baby. I'll make you some waffles. You want waffles? You want ice cream for dinner?! You can totally have ice cream. You can have anything you want. I love you, baby. You're so sweet!" OK, so I didn't tell him he could have ice cream & waffles for dinner, but I wanted to.

This morning I was beat. Run-over-by-a-Mack-truck kind of beat. Bitsy woke up about 6:30, so I blocked her into the living room and flopped down on the couch while she played. I must have dozed off for a minute or two because when I looked up, she was picking at something on the carpet & trying to eat it. I immediately rolled onto the floor & pulled her away. When I looked at the carpet, I couldn't figure out what she was trying to eat...for about 4 seconds.

When I realized what it was, I nearly gaged. She had been laying on her back on the carpet when she pooped...and it came out the back of her diaper...and was smeared on the carpet...and...well, you know. It was a VERY small amount, but still....EWW!

I think I should go back to bed if this is how today's planning on starting.