yesterday, he had this landslide of booger mud in the shape of that trapezoid which is bordered on the north by the source, to the south by the upper lip, and to the east and west by cheeks. i could practically peel it off in one sheet like a booger fruit roll up. for the rest of it, bordering the booger caves, you pretty much need a paintscraper. they've fortified the entrance. it's a grotto.
brian is boogerphobic. i can scrape down a wall and hold my finger out for him to take it into the kitchen with him and he'll leave me hanging with a booger finger while he runs away to get a piece of toilet paper. maybe i'm not so freaked out by it because it's like i'm picking my own external booger. it's still significantly constructed of breastmilk. it's me going out of my tiddies and into his mouth and back out his nose. it's practically a part of me. and the whole baby is only maybe one half a cell of brian's, physically speaking. i suppose the booger cells have half his dna, but that must not be enough for him to touch them.
after the spraygrounds friday night and before the booger infection, we actually got taco bell for dinner. i'm not sure how i pulled this off considering i was still suffering from the on again/off again hate affair with the mystery nausea, but brian was like a kid in a scary refried bean store, so i agreed. we also rented blades of glory, which was about as good as you might suspect it would be. brian said it was maybe even worse than factory girl, which we ppv'd recently. just had to get it out of my system.
saturday sucked. brian basically cleaned all afternoon and evening while i languished on the couch from the tail end of the nausea and a blossoming case of depression slash cabin fever. i finally took the baby to central market and purchased a metric ton of plums, pluots, and nectarines since i had been badly neglecting them all summer. we put our thumbs up our asses for entertainment that evening.
sunday was a last minute party for my grandfather in tyler. 90 years old. i was a little disappointed during our drive in to hear from my sister that there might not be many people in for it. even my parents were in mexico. much of that side of the family has yet to meet oliver. then i was overwhelmed to hear the guest list was 35 long. brian and i went to the nearest starbucks and retreated to my parents' empty home for bolstering.
as frightening as a home filled with 35 southern relatives might sound, i actually ended up having a good time. it's always nice to have a fresh batch of people to coo over your child and i hadn't seen many of those people anywhere from two to twenty years. you could tell my grandparents were pleased as punch to have a gathering the caliber of yesteryear and my grandfather was johnny-on-the-spot with jokes about his upcoming 100th birthday. though i insisted that my grandmother make nothing special for the token vegetarians, she still gave us our own section on the buffet with veggie burger patties, a bowl of baby carrots, a bowl of baked beans, and two ears of corn. she nearly punched me in the face trying to get me to fill the break in the meat-eater line so i could get some fruit salad.
oliver walked away with a giggle stick from my grandfather (in this case, it was a giggle stick aberration called a Moany Groany, complete with monster head on one end) and a pastel butterfly magnet from my grandmother, the woman also known to say oliver looks like a girl. he also walked away with a case of grump requiring a pull over at the love's truck stop.
monday was our big day. after much talk, we were finally going to do it. we dressed in swimsuits, packed up towels and a float and swim toys and a camera and sunscreen, and drove over to the kiddie pool on lovers. then we discovered we weren't allowed in unless accompanied by a university park resident. fucking university park. YOU LIVE IN DALLAS. YOU ARE NOT THE TEXAN VATICAN CITY.
we went to the gingerman instead and sat on the back patio drinking beer and eating soft pretzels and dodging infrequent raindrops. and then we got the mango takeout.