Surely, You’re Not Escaping Winter That Easily

I should have seen it coming. The second I opened my mouth while driving a friend visiting from Greece on West Avon Road, past the governor’s horses, I knew I should have kept my mouth tightly shut.

“Oh,” I began, looking out at this very country, homey scenery, feeling pride in where we lived, verses the less green, rather beige and dusty environs of Athens. “We’ve had such a great winter. Since Snowvember, no snow! So warm! So tropical! And the best part of all, unlike last year where we were snowed in: endless snow days piled up one on top of the other. The kids were doing a fast rotation of vomit/fever/stomach horror. We would rush to the post crime scene clean-up of: the floors, the rugs, the walls, the beds, the sheets, their clothes, their hair and teeth. And then running laundry every twenty seconds, for two months straight, well…. THIS YEAR, we are off: scot-free.”

What fool am I? No, really, what kind of fool am I?

Ya, I know. I should never have said boo. Don’t tempt the Gods. Hubris, thy name is Smug, Horse-Passing Mommy.

Oh, vomit, isn’t it the best? I can’t remember who exactly came first. Oh, yes, my son Theodore, at the old house in Avon, while it was being taken apart around him. Then in the new Farmington house, my daughter Christiane - all over her bed and wall. My other son, Petros on our new bedroom floor, and then our youngest boy, Constantine last night, his new, big boy bed: soaked. His new duvet cover and pillow: brown tainted Milano hurl. The walls, the floors, and worstly — the light colored rug, a Jackson Pollack effect that covered one-third of its 8 x 10, low wool canvas.

My husband Fotis and I spent over and hour, from 3 to 4 a.m. on our knees, gathering it all up, disinfecting. I did laundry on the “sanitize,” or rather “boil it now for crying out loud” setting. Fotis, at some point, gave Constantine a bath and brushed his teeth. Eventually, there was some consensus on sterilization, and I took Constantine (now with fever) to bed. But Christiane wanted to sleep in her aired out, white vinegar-smelling room, on her miraculously untouched bed. Whereas Fotis went off to the couch, off of the kids rooms, to read his three-volume series on the extinguished Byzantine empire.

Then the baby woke, at 4.30 am.

Okay. Sure.

Have any of you had such a pleasant night as this? By all means, do share!

Jennifer Dulos also blogs at www.fivemakesseven.com