Smithsonian

Yesterday was a crazy day. My friend, who has four kids under the age of seven, went with us to the Renwick Gallery at the Smithsonian. So we parked across the street from it. They had an amazing room full of Catlin portraits. I mean, it was jam-packed. I could have done without the ugly breast trophy in the other gallery, but you can't always get what you want.

Eraser Eater was unusually cold the whole time (he has always boasted of being "cold proof" and until yesterday it was true). He was also unusually tired. Granted, walking for an HOUR to get to the Natural History museum from the Renwick Gallery was a bit much. My friend's kids were stumbling around listless, mine were moving slowly, hot-cheeked. The Oldest would not stop complaining. At one point he was saying he was delirious. If that were so it would have served us all well, but it was an exaggeration and we had to bear with a non-delirious complainer. I asked my friend if duct tape was considered abuse and she laughed and said, "yes." Shucks. However, we could always say that he is standing for the pro-life movement and write "life" on the duct tape. That way he would be saying something, yet not saying something. He IS pro-life. It would work.

Anyway, eventually it got better. Except for Eraser Eater. He was just not doing well. He looked somewhat pale and very tired, asking me (with all courtesy) for a place to sit for a spell and then he could move on. I really felt for him. He just looked so entirely weak that I offered to pick him up, but he refused and said that he could manage it, he just needed a bit of rest. He looked like Frodo, at the foot of Mount Doom, the Ring heavy upon him. I was Sam saying, "I will carry you, Mr. Frodo!"

He fell asleep in the car on the way home, poor kid. Then we ate dinner. I made them all snow cones for such good attitudes (although I did wish to put duct tape on the Oldest, he did shape up eventually and he did well considering he enjoys putting all of us through vocal misery whenever there is a silent spell or not a silent spell. At one point he chose not to seize those opportunities and I was grateful.). Eraser Eater, upon finishing his snow cone, suddenly got extremely chilled. "I am so cold!" he said a little loudly, grabbing a blanket to read his book.

I finally went over to check his head. He had a fever!!!! It was almost 102!!!!! I bet he had a fever all day!

I felt like a complete wretch. I tell you, that kid is amazing. He never complains, just states his need if he absolutely has to. Of the many times I offered to carry him he refused and kept going. Thankfully I wasn't mean to him at all and tried to help him all I could. Whenever he has to throw up he politely asks for a bucket or goes to the toilet himself and cleanly does the job. I have always boasted that he could puke in a thimble. He could.

And I don't know how the Prof. puts up with me. I used up all his gas in the car yesterday (we switched cars for our trip) and didn't fill up. The Oldest said, "Uh, Mom, aren't you going to get gas?" once we hit near home.

"Nope," I said, "I hate getting gas and last time it splattered all over my foot. I wasted about five bucks doing that. It's a man's job."

But this morning, when it got down to telling him he was on low, I winced as I confessed.

He rolled his eyes, shook his head and got in the car.

I am a wretch.