The shopping blitz is upon us, I’ve just got the kitchen clean, and I’m about to spend this whole week baking for a party this weekend.
Can we take a momentary break from the usual themed posts and just do a sort of general State of the Fam update?
Husband has gone and done something to his knee, and I spent all weekend trying to convince him that a swollen, largely immobile joint that cannot bear weight is exactly the sort of thing you need a doctor for.
ME: Look at you. You can’t go to work tomorrow!
HIM: (huffing, struggling to stand) The doctor’s just going to tell me to keep it elevated and rest, maybe ice and heat.
ME: And you know this because of your medical degree and x-ray vision?
HIM: But I googled knee injuries.
ME: Ah. Knee injuries.
HIM: That’s all it is—a knee injury.
ME: What sort?
HIM: I don’t—
ME: Is there tendon damage? Cartilage? Bone, muscle?
HIM: I don’t—
ME: A DOCTOR WOULD BE ABLE TO TELL.
HIM: (sighs, collapses in chair)
I finally convinced him to go in, and he got a referral to orthopedics, so let’s all remember that I was right.
We had to start over on Ark because neither of us maintained the server and we lost everything. But hey, that’s just life giving us the gift of a fresh start!
OFFSPRING: I don’t know why you didn’t download the update when I told you about it.
ME: Because I didn’t think of it.
OFFSPRING: But you did! You even said, “ooh, there’s an update? I’d better go download that now so I’m ready when we play.”
ME: … I have no recollection of this conversation. You must have imagined it.
OFFSPRING: I really didn’t.
ME: Whatever, it’s almost done and this gives us time to just catch up!
OFFSPRING: Whelp, I’ve still got those stitches in my hand and the Urgent Care can’t remove them; I have to make an appointment with my primary.
ME: Yeah, that makes sense.
OFFSPRING: Plus, they couldn’t give me a profile so there’s nothing to stop them from making me do pushups and pullups and—
ME: Oh yes there is.
OFFSPRING: Besides you.
ME: (smirks) They can’t do that.
OFFSPRING: When our commander is a douchebag? Watch them.
ME: Honey? He says the Urgent Care couldn’t give him a profile so they’re making him go to his primary, which will take forever, and he—
HIM: He doesn’t have sick call?
ME: I don’t know why he doesn’t go to sick call, but—
OFFSPRING: I didn’t think of it. Yeah, I could just go to sick call.
ME: (rolls eyes) But he’s worried that without a profile there’s nothing to stop them from making him do pushups and—
HIM: Yeah there is. Common sense.
ME: Your dad says—
HIM: If they order him to do something he obviously can’t do, he can say no. And if they try to write him up for that, he takes it up the chain and the person who tried that shit will get smacked. Because he’s obviously injured, and you can’t just—
ME: … that if they do try to make you, just say no. If they write you up for it, fight it and they’ll get in trouble, not you.
OFFSPRING: True, there is that little “I disagree” line on your report.
ME: (tries very hard not to wonder how he knows this)
OFFSPRING: But I’ll just go to sick call. I forgot about that.
ME: Or you can just wave your hand in their face and wipe the bloods all over them.
ME: LOOKIT MY BLOODS LET ME GET THIS ON YOUR MOUTH SO YOU KNOW IT’S REALLY BLOOD OH BY THE WAY I HAVE HERPES.
OFFSPRING: Why herpes and not AIDS?
ME: More believable.
OFFSPRING: It’s the army; syphilis is more believable than anything.
ME: Ew, seriously?
OFFSPRING: Yeah, apparently the number of soldiers with syphilis is hi—
ME: Who they fuckin’?
OFFSPRING: Anything that moves.
ME: … That makes sense. Girls with syphilis can’t run as fast.
OFFSPRING: (laughs) Oh god.
ME: Yeah, that got dark. Sorry.
OFFSPRING: (still laughing)
Husband and I are doing the annual holiday dance of the dollah. It’s my least favorite thing in the world jammed into my favorite time of year, which feels all sorts of gross and wrong. It’s also the main argument for why I need to be ridiculously wealthy.
That and all the animals I’d adopt if I wasn’t crippled by mortal terror of vet bills.
This year comes with extra emotional baggage due to my having two fewer people to shop for, call, and love than in years past. Which means my poor husband has been reluctant to bring up anything holiday related in case it sets off a crying jag, which means very little gets done because I don’t want to bring it up for fear of… I don’t know. I have issues, clearly.
But we did finally talk money, so that’s very adult of us and we deserve some of my hot cocoa fudge.
HIM: (not looking up from Sims) Hey.
ME: Soooo… I want to have a serious talk about Christmas budget.
HIM: (turning around) Okay.
HIM: … Do you have any numbers to contribute to a serious budget discussion?
ME: … I think what I lack in numbers and facts I more than make up for in feelings and intensity.
HIM: Okay… I feel like I would like to spend $10,000 on Christmas presents for you.
ME: Really? That’s so cool, because I could totally spend a billion dollars on you!
HIM: (sighs) I was trying to keep mine realistic—
ME: What part of that was realistic?
HIM: … yeah.
Speaking of Sims4, All things Sims are on a mega holiday sale just now. Like, too cheap to pass up. So I didn’t.
And now Offspring is mad at me. But at least he finally understands the purpose of our family’s “don’t buy anything for yourself in November or December” rule.
He did forgive me long enough to play Ark for most of a day, which was just about the only time all weekend I wasn’t playing Sims.
OFFSPRING: Where are you?!
ME: I’m over… I don’t know.
OFFSPRING: COME HELP ME WITH THIS DAMNED BIRD!
ME: I’m TRYING!
OFFSPRING: That’s it. I’ma shoot this fucker.
ME: (arrives, stabs evil bird) Got him!
ME: Okay, now we just need to—what the fuck is that?!
ME: (runs off)
ME: How ya doin’?
OFFSPRING: … spawning in now.
ME: K. Also, um… how important is it that I’m freezing to death?
OFFSPRING: How are you—
ME: It’s fine. This is fine.
OFFSPRING: You know, you say that a lot. I don’t think you mean it.
ME: Did you look up what that turkey event is?
OFFSPRING: No. I’m not your damned search engine. I set up Raptor Claus instead.
ME: Okay, but my phone is way over there so just look it up and explain it to me.
OFFSPRING: You’re perfectly capable of looking it up and reading the description—
ME: Actually, I’m not.
OFFSPRING: You ca—what now?
ME: I can’t.
OFFSPRING: You can read—
ME: Nope. It’s time you knew the truth—I’m illiterate.
ME: So —
OFFSPRING: You’re a writer!
ME: Right? It’s been a real struggle.
ME: So if—
OFFSPRING: What do you do, just bang on the keyboard and hope autocorrect fixes it?
ME: Pretty much.
 Fine, you caught me. But I’m totally going to finish today. Swearsy-realsies.
 Right in the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. Cringe.
 Military version of a note from your mom excusing you from gym.
 Which we all know is uncommon to the point of near-extinction in the military, but that’s the term he used and I love him anyway.
 Our dark, twisted sense of humor is why he still loves us even though he’s got his own money to buy Takis whenever he wants. Also why he tells people his parents are “actually pretty cool, in their way.”
 Another case of the sordid topic of coin soiling something for which I hold only the purest love.
 Tastes exactly like a mug of cocoa with marshmallows, but in fudge form. Enjoy with a cup of cocoa for the ultimate experience.
 We were. Trust me, and try to keep up.