Remember “The Thin Man” movies, with the impossibly elegant William Powell and the even more impossibly elegant Myrna Loy? In the first movie, Nora Charles meets her husband in a restaurant and realizes that he is well ahead of her on the martini count. After she figures out he’s had five martinis, she gestures to the waiter: “Bring me five martinis and line them up right here.” She proceeds–elegantly–to toss back all five, one after another.
I opened my fridge yesterday not to a row of perfectly chilled martini shakers but a row of amoxicyllin bottles, in precisely the shocking pink that believe it or not has been declared “color of the year“:
A fridge of pink medicine just isn’t that much fun, frankly, and neither is an apartment full of two strep-throated boys. Caleb stayed home from school the day after the snow day; Liam came home from school after a detour to the doctor’s office, who declared that he was also infected.
Let’s see. Since Jan 1, 2011, that makes six snowstorms, 1 case of “I almost have lice,” 1 47th birthday, and 2 cases of strep throat. I gotta say that at this rate, February (usually my least favorite month) is looking really good.
And isn’t it any wonder that yesterday–and today, for that matter–I never changed out of the shirt I slept in, never put on anything even resembling a bra, and for that matter don’t think I even washed my face? I did brush my teeth, though. I mean, I’m not a complete pig.
Personal grooming takes a real hit in this whole parenting thing, I find.
But Nora Charles would be horrified.