crazy is as crazy does...

Right now, sickness abounds at casa t'pon.  Bean is struggling through what appears to be either his first big cold, OR his brain is melting and oozing out of his nose. Hard to tell at this point, but I do know that it is affecting his sleep and that makes mama t'pon pissy.  N. is going through some kind of gastrointestinal difficulties.  Lets just say that I am not sure that the smell is ever going to come out of the guest bedroom, it has been a difficult couple of days.  And then I seem to be suffering from a general stomach ickiness...  which has brought on a definite bought of pregnancy paranoia.  I have yet to pee on a stick because the chances are HIGHLY unlikely... but hey, so were the chances with Bean. But, that is neither here nor there.

Today, we are talking about crazy... as in "everyone in my family, at least on my mom's side, goes bat-shit insane before they die" and shopping... as in "primary source of bonding and entertainment for Chicken Little (my mom) and me."

About six months following our nuptials, I informed N. that given the fact that he had made a solemn promise to me that he would not die before me... well, he more than likely would have to watch me deteriorate to the point of madness. I figured by this time in our relationship, he was locked in. People would definitely peg him as the jerk for leaving me because I was voted "most likely to eat chalk" in high school.

I cannot accurately predict the method of my madness (Alzhe*imer's, dem*entia, bi-p*olar and the mother of all schizophr*enia all have claimed members of the extended family), I feel pretty certain that my future contains at least a few years of drooling, fits of random and uncontrollable emotions, and referring to my children/grandchildren by the dogs' names. (N. will tell you that I am already exhibiting two out of the three as of this morning...) And I am OK with that...      

My only concern is that I do not wish to LOOK like a crazy person.  I made N promise that he would not let me sit in four-day old PJs with drool hanging off my lip, unless we were caring for a newborn. I have made sure in our planning that money is set aside to have someone come in and fix my hair on a regular basis and dress me up real pretty-like.  Occasionally, I remind N. of this arrangement.  And like most men quick to dismiss any conversation that might be a little uncomfortable...  he dismisses any odds that I will, one day, be making blue water.

N.: I think that you are fine.  While your dad is certainly not the poster-boy for mental health, he at least dilutes your mom's gene pool.  Your mom, however, is most certainly F&%^ed.

t'pon: You might as well accept the fact that I am going to go crazy... it won't be that bad. You can make fun of me.

N. To your face?

t'pon: Its not like I am going to even know who you are, so sure... you realize that Chicken Little will want to live with us when she loses her mind.

N:  So is she moving in next week? (t'pon shooting eye daggers)

t'pon: oh, you are SOFA KING clever.

N.: At least we could save some money by canceling the cable.  We can just sit around and watch your mom. Bonus, its interactive and encourages bonding with older generations for the kids. (I am now about to open a can of whoop ass on his special combat warrior butt. No one talks about my mama like that except me...)

t'pon: Forget it.

Fast-forward two days...

N: Make me a promise.

t'pon: what?

N.: Make me a promise about you and your crazy mom...

t'pon: Are you going hold me to a promise when I am crazy?  Because I don't think that's fair...  you can't hold me to a promise made 40 years earlier if I am calling you by the dog's name.  I won't remember it... that sets you up to totally take advantage of me.

N.: You call me by the dog's name now.

t'pon: Even more reason to be wary of this promise-making thing...

N.: Promise, or there will be no hair brushing.  Your crazy ass can wear dreadlocks for all I care.

t'pon: Fine.

N.:  When you and your crazy mother are out spending money...

t'pon: yeah...

N.: Make sure that it is HER money.

Comments

[Holly]

Holy COW... go pee on a stick already! And let us know the outcome! I can't STAND suspense!!!!!

P.S. The crazy conversation had me rolling...

[MIM]

Ugh. I'm dealing with sick kids, too. I got enough boogs here to make my very own boogie man.

I made Husband promise the same thing. Of course, I never thought to bring in someone to fix me up. We'll have to adjust our retirement savings plan. Thanks for the idea!

[buffi]

Yes, I believe that the personal grooming assistant will be essential when I am full-blown crazy. (Like you, well on my way. And my mom is t-h-i-s close. Are you sure we're not related?) Must have those papers drawn up now...