We'd spent the day out at the lake, all of the kids were exhausted (SG passed out 10 minutes into the hour long drive back to my friend E 's house), and we put them all to bed by about 7pm - I think. E, her husband Mr. D and I were all sitting in the living room gabbing, drinking and relaxing after having eaten dinner. And then the world blew up.
Well not really, but still. CW showed up upstairs (we three were sleeping in the playroom in the basement) clutching a paper good to her nose, asking me if I could come downstairs for a minute.
E: Are you okay, CW!?
Mr. D: Is your nose bleeding?!
Me: (after going over to her) What's the matter? Did your brother clock you again?
No, none of those things. She was having a complete meltdown. Why? I'd left her old bedtime music playing (she hasn't listened to it in almost a year now) and Queen's, "Who wants to live forever?" had come on. She'd started thinking about how cool it would be to live forever, all of the things she could do, see, places she could go...but she wouldn't get to see us, because we'd be dead and gone, and she'd started crying about how much she'd miss us, and then started thinking about my car (the explorer) and how IT was gone (had been picked up for donation on Tuesday), and she'd never seeeee it again! And she'd never *hiccup* ev-ver get to ride in it agaaaaiiiin! And she just w-wanted to r-ride i-in it o-one m-m-more tiiiiime!!!
OMG. Whoever thought that kids have to have a PET to experience loss and mourn is full of crap. Me being Bad Mom, ended up laughing while I was hugging her and talking her out of the meltdown, but thankfully she was fine with that. I asked her if she'd like to talk to Daddy, and not surprisingly, she did - but she wanted to stay in the basement. So I had Matt call the house line, and gave him a heads up about the situation.
Meanwhile, upstairs on the second floor, E was dealing with her own offspring issues. B, her youngest was coughing so badly she threw up all over E. This of course made E a little jumpy when she heard CW sobbing and hiccuping downstairs - she was worried that she was throwing up too.
I ended up relaying what had happened to Mr. D while we were standing in the kitchen, waiting for E to come back downstairs (we could hear B screaming) from dealing with B. He looked almost panicked when I finished and said, "This is what I have to look forward to. Great."
I of course cackled, "Times TWO!!" at him as he escaped out the garage door for a drink and a smoke...poor guy certainly needed them... :)
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