Ninja Truck Under Constant Threat From Pinky and the Brain

Tomorrow is my birthday and I'm gonna' celebrate by going to see my favorite doctor and see why my tonsils are strangling me.

He likes me because I always shock him with my smoking and my awesome diet plan, which consists of a coffee and a banana for breakfast, coffee and cigarettes for lunch, and whatever I can make out of popcorn and leftover Christmas candy for dinner because I hate getting groceries.

I may also celebrate by taking Ninja Truck on a little date to the mechanic. On my way to school today, I stopped to give him (I think Ninja Truck is a boy...) some oil because he just squanders the stuff, and I noticed that the air filter was askew, which doesn't mean awesome, even though askew is a pretty awesome word. So I tried to fix it and the whole thing just came out. I didn't pull it out, it was just not hooked to anything. And this truck has a GIANT air filter, so it's just sitting there, perched on some wires and engine-y things, not hooked up to anything.

I tried to put it back on, but I would like to say that you can all just be very proud that I even know what it was in the first place. I looked for a picture in the owner's manual, because I thought that if I could figure out which way it was supposed to go, then I could hook it to the right stuff. But the picture didn't show enough, so I had to call Mason.

Mason is brother number two, which means he's a dookie. Only not a total dookie, because he met me at the gas station and helped me put it back together. We had to take the case apart to put it back, so either the truck came with the air filter not hooked to anything (which can cause serious engine damage and also alter the course of the Earth), OR someone snuck into my driveway, got out their handy flat-head screwdriver and unhooked the whole thing, even though it's kind of a pain to reach the screwdriver in there.

Who would do that? I narrowed it down to three guesses...
1. Donovan, who is always doing things to be actively destructive.
2. Someone (Pinky and the Brain?) plotting total world domination.
3. Nazi Truck Lady

If you have any knowledge of this crime, please call the hotline at
1-800-SAVETHETRUCKS.

THIS is why you don't pretend to be sick

This morning was spent getting ready for the "prove my point" doctor's visit so that Warrick wouldn't cry wolf anymore when it's time for school.

Our appointment was at 9:45. I had to begin getting ready for this at 7. I showed up at the office ten minutes early, because as the person bringing the patient, that is my duty. My job: Show up ten minutes early. Doctor's job: Every damn other thing that goes on at a doctor's office. Simple, right?

We weren't seeing our usual doc because he doesn't see sickies in the morning. Instead, we got this tiny little woman with blond hair who was about eleven years old. Her name was Dr. Snail-Turtle-Slug. I sat with four children in the general waiting room, where I am sure we picked up every illness known to man.

We were called back to a room and saw a nurse. She said that the doctor would be just a minute. I assumed she was talking about how long until we saw the doctor, not that the doctor was literally the size of a minute. We did see the doctor ... at 10:45.

Now tell me....if you can't see a patient at 9:45, why in the hell would you schedule them in at 9:45? How hard is it? You see the patient, you leave the room before it's time to see the next one. No, seriously, that's it. I realize that it doesn't work this way, but why not? I never see them for longer than five minutes, and they charge at least $60 for that. Also, if I'm ten minutes late, they refuse to see me. So.....an hour? In a tiny little room with four children? For a fake illness? I was very angry.

So the doctor showed up, and she was just a little kid and I couldn't yell at her at all. Warrick told her all his lies about how his stomach feels weird and his throat hurts a little and he may have thrown up but he's not sure. I thought of big words to tell her that I didn't really believe him without his knowing what I was saying. She said she would run a strep test and a flu test just to be safe.

So we waited.

A little after 11, she opened the door and said, "Good news! He doesn't have strep! I'm so glad you waited!" I'm all, what? Why are we glad about waiting? Is there a hidden camera somewhere, cuz I'm fixin' to be that embarrassing person who gets super-pissed when everyone else is laughing.

"He has the FLU!!!" She was rejoicing. I think because, not only did she torture us with waiting, we would go home and be further tortured with flu-ness.

"If any of the other kids have a stuffy nose, cough, or fever...any symptoms at all...they need to be tested."

I told her that Donovan (who was sitting right there coughing up a lung) had that, and she said..."Ok, well, if he gets worse, get him tested...Buh-bye!!!!"

So, Warrick wasn't fake-sick, which meant I had to eat crow, which sucked because by the time I got home I also felt flu-ish, and crow is the opposite of comfort food. And since she wouldn't look at Donovan, we had to spend the afternoon negotiating Tamiflu for the rest of the family.

Now, we are medicated. We are hoping for a snow day tomorrow so our not-going-to-school won't get us in trouble. And guess what? Kids with the flu? Also don't sleep.