This would be one of those days that were it not NaBloPoMo, I would not be going anywhere near the Internet. This is what I do for you. We have reached a stage where eating out is a chore. I wolfed down my dinner while Rich walked Ian around the restaurant and then he ate his while I took Ian outside to watch the rickshaw drivers play hackiy sack. I paid $2.39 for an iced tea I barely touched and boxed up half my dinner.
Ian screamed like we were skinning him alive while we drove the 0.01 miles from the restaurant to Barnes & Noble where he was momentarily sated by the toys and baby books. Then he screamed until he fell asleep on the way home.
And then when we got home he was exhausted but wouldn't - couldn't - fall asleep. The poor guy isn't feeling well I don't think but I'm not sure what it is. I feel like an auger trying to consult the birds on why he's fussy. I cast the bones to see if it's his teeth or his diaper or something new.
So he's now tossing and turning around in the bed and I'm in a foul mood. I'm going to go to bed and hope that tomorrow goes better for us all.