Previous posts on The Weekend of Death, here and here.
On Sunday evening, we decided to go eat at a local Mexican restaurant. We found one we like that is close to the house.
Well, we pulled up, and, first of all...there were no cars there.
And SECOND of all, there was butcher-paper on all the windows.
And THIRD of all, there was a little sign on the window. We had to pull up close to read it. It read: "CLOSE IT."
CLOSE IT.
We ended up going to another Mexican restaurant downtown. We had to wait a bit, and it was Rhodie's eating time. Holly and Aaron-the-son-in-law excused themselves to go to their car, so she could feed Rhodie. We ordered our food, and ate cheese dip while we waited. Finally, our food came out, and we ate. Then Holly, Aaron, and Rhodes came back...and they ate.
It was then that we all started talking about the fact that Clark had been to the bathroom TWICE during dinner. AND that he hadn't finished his dinner...which is RARE, because the boy-child can EAT.
We came home, and Clark headed straight back to our bathroom.
Yep. Victim #2.
And also? He trashed the one remaining sanctuary we had when we wanted to use the bathroom. Seriously, I'll spare you the details, but it looked like a crime scene.
After a while, we started hearing some strange noises coming from back there. We wondered if he needed some help, so Logan went back there to check on him.
Apparently, in-between times of throwing up, Clark would yell, sing, and beat his chest, or pound on the wall...telling his "barf" to "get outta me!" and stuff like that.
I don't know. Boys are weird.
But Logan came back in the kitchen, and said that Clark felt like he'd "gotten it all out"...and that he felt "100% better."
WELL.
You know it couldn't be that easy, right?
He had NOT gotten it all out, and he did NOT feel 100% better.
He continued to stay in our bathroom for a long time. At one point, he went upstairs and put on a black hoodie, black sweat pants, and black socks. He said he was freezing. And then he walked through the house...back to MY BATHROOM...looking like the Grim Reaper.
Jim and I always wonder WHY our kids always gravitate to OUR bathroom.
When I went back to check on Clark, he was laid out on the floor of our master closet...using one of my "tiger" head slippers as a pillow.
Bless.
And when I went back to take a shower before bed, he was gone...and I hadn't seen him walk by. I found him on the leather couch in the living room, which is now being referred to as the "sick room." I brought him a glass of water, and gave him a kiss. He had two blankets on him, and two big towels. I brought him a large basin...just in case.
I heard him come into our bathroom in the night.
In the morning, as we were sitting around the kitchen table...Clark, Logan, Morgan, and me...he told us that he had gone into our bathroom 4 times during the night. He said that, at one point, he "blacked out" on our bathroom floor. He said that he thought he was having a vision from the Lord. He said he reached out to touch Him, but he could never feel Him...and that he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. He thought he might have hit his head, and that he was going blind.
Again, how did all of this go on in our house...in our bathroom...and I didn't hear it?
It's at this point that Morgan said to Clark, "what a night! You were having visions from the Lord...and Logan was having nightmares that he pooped in his underwear."
MOMS OF BOYS, let me just tell you now...nothing is ever off-limits with boys, no matter how old they are. Because here were our two youngest bowies, one almost 25, and the other 20 1/2 years old...talking (and laughing) about pooping in their underwear.
At the kitchen table.
Where we...you know...EAT.
It gets worse.
If you have a weak stomach, or if you have all girls...you might want to leave this page and click on another, more GENTILE blog right now...because what was said next might knock your socks off. I have THREE BOYS (and a daughter), and it even made me catch my breath.
But it really came as no surprise.
Clark said, "you know what was weird is that what was coming out of both places...LOOKED THE SAME."
(insert Morgan and I DYING)
And Logan goes, "RIGHT? It's like, 'oh my word...I just pooped out of my mouth...or barfed out of my bottom.'"
Annnnnnnnd...there you go.
"O my Strength, to You I sing praises, for You, O God, are my refuge, the God who shows me unfailing love." Psalm 59:17
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