Admitting

When Ben's gone, I miss him terribly. When he's here, there are times when I'm counting the minutes until his dad comes and gets him. Like now.

He has been with me since last Friday. Kevin's been in Maui. Ben came down with pneumonia last weekend and missed school for half of the week. His nights were filled with feverish discomfort and coughing fits that were so intense that he gagged. Good times.

The ER doctor suggested a new, more potent round of antibiotics this time around which I readily agreed to. The upside is that the bacteria was gone in record time, as was the temperature. The downside was that my son turned into Lucifer and has been a complete shit since the meds hit his system.

Once Ben began to feel better, he took full liberty to unleash his nasty, medication induced behavior on everyone. He pushed his pizza across the table and screamed for a full 30 minutes about how awful it was and that he would never touch it again. He called me in the bathroom to clean up and waited behind the door, only to slam it into me. He unbuckled his seatbelt in the car, while we were on the freeway, and then taunted me with how far he could pull the strap. He passed by the television that my mom was watching, backed up, paused and then slammed his fist into it.

What. The. Fuck. This is not my child.

Kevin finally crawled out from whatever pukka shell he's been hiding under to let me know that he's home from Maui and indeed, all ready for Ben on Sunday.

We have more one more day. Fortunately, we're going on a road trip to my dad's and there will be lots of Nintendo time, while Ben fantasizes about all the great toys that Grandpa will buy him. And by this time tomorrow, I'll be one day closer to my much anticipated and way overdue day of rest.