Our whole house has been super gross sick with a cough and nasal cold medley of mucus sounds. Sounds like the happenin place to be I know. Everyone from my sister and myself to the baby were ill ( we are still ill. I am just choosing to think we are on the mend in hopes the worst is over). Amazingly, the old man downstairs is not sick. For once he is immune. This may be the result of about 85 various antibiotics that he has had intravenously and orally over the last month to prevent infection of his old wounded body. That man is a whole separate blog of medical miracles lately. I might post a summary and some photos if I can get past how graphic they are. Pretty gross and completely interesting to any science nerds like me. Anyhow, he is surviving the plague at our place like a superhero. The rest of us look like the cast of The Walking Dead ( which is on tonight and I am sooooooooooooooo looking forward to it) grunting around, dragging our bodies to and fro. Good times. My snotty puffy eyed toddler is remarkable sweet and snuggly when under the weather and I most definitely made the best of feeling like garbage by keeping pajama man wrapped in my arms. He also made a wonderful heater.
The really sad part of this story is lame and I am well aware of it. Deep down I know you can relate. Even if you don't admit it out loud. I would like to take a moment to express my love for a specific type of pajama pant. The soft, almost T-shirt jersey material that is baggy and swooshy. Drawstring and big enough to laze around in, never getting a wedgie. Well, today I mourn the loss of a pair that lasted far beyond life expectancy. Dearest blue stripped pants, old friend how you will be missed. In an awkward turn of events, my trusty favorites had given up and split clear down the ass seam. And I would never have known had my kid not pants me accidentally when attempting to climb me to get to a cup of milk I was making him ( because apparently he is starving at 30 plus pounds of pudge). I stood in shock looking at the sad seat of pant. Wondering if Target even still carried the same style ( by that I mean the EXACT same pants. Because I have grown accustom to the pockets and no others will do). I know what you must be thinking, "what a fat ass to split her pants". I thought it too. But having never split the ass of pants even when a big giant pregnant lady, I don't think it's my size ( not to downplay my round behind which happens to be one of my good features) but rather the age of the poor cotton fabric. I also pondered the hilarity that would have ensued had this taken place unbeknownst to me yesterday, when Dad had nurses here. And yes, sometimes I greet them in my jammies when they arrive at 8:30am. That would have been classic Shannon right there. So I guess I can be thankful for one day past possible humiliation for the death of the best casual pants ever.
In other news, my jewelry business is really booming. My sis and I created GlassCast for our inventions and we sell them. Super excited about a few holiday craft venues coming up including Every Husbands Nightmare Bazaar at the Washington County Fairgrounds November 15th-20th. I hear they have amazing gifty food vendors there too! We are glad to be a part of the local craft community. Wish us lots of luck or better yet come see our jewelry and pick up some stocking stuffers for yourself or loved ones. :)
I figure sharing my embarrASSing story allows me a shameless product plug. Hope ya'll have an awesome Turkey day, just in case life gets busy and I miss blogging here. I will try my best to part with a few recipes on my food page for festivities sake.
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