There's a day, in every family, where everything goes wrong. My family has one, referred to as Black Tuesday- when the plumber and exterminator informed my mother that they found the leak which was attracting termites, and it was in the foundation under the kitchen and they'd need to jackhammer it up; the vet called to say the dog did, in fact, have valley fever and she needed to be brought in to commence the expensive, arsenic based treatment immediately and it only had a 15% success rate; and then the pediatrician called to say he was back from vacation, had looked at my numbers, and I needed to be hospitalized that day, preferably within the next hour.

Last Monday wasn't quite that bad, but it came damn close.

So, last Monday we were staring the impending religionfest in the face; it was predicted to be over 90 the rest of the week, we had a houseguest already and were soon going to acquire several more. Here's what happened, in rapid order:

1. The Lad's grandfather was hospitalized. He had been diagnosed with cancer the week before, then failed to tell anyone he was vomiting blood. For several days. The MIL happened to mention to me that they had found out- because he needed help cleaning the bathroom- that he was puking something black and, clever girl that I am, I screamed at her to get him to the hospital immediately. Turns out he has a fully punctured esophogeal ulcer.

2. This meant that the Lad's parents might not make it out for the baptism, natch, because they really shouldn't leave Gramps in such a state.

3. A very large tree on the back fence line began to lean. Precipitously. This time we spoke to the neighbors in very clear, difficult to misunderstand small words about it, and we all agreed it's leaning, it must go, and we will split the cost.

4. And then we got the estimate of $960 to remove it. But the tree surgeon eyeballed it and said when it falls it will fall slowly and not hit the house. If we'd like to just, you know, wait for it to fall over. Just don't dally in that side of the yard.

5. The baby is teething. 2 months early. They think it's just the teeth moving into position, but he cries in inconsolable pain for a good chunk of time in the afternoons and is, of course, too small to 1. hold a teether 2. even fit the damn thing in his mouth.

6. And they figured out what was wrong with the air conditioning in my car. I own a black volvo. And the week before last it suddenly was not blowing cold air. This would be when I discovered black car+ merely window venting in a Kansas July=warm. And like a genius, I had the hood on the carseat down to protect the baby, except the inside of the hood is a silver fabric which, in essence, turns it into the Graco Infant Easy Bake Oven. Halfway home from the grocery store he began to emit a thin, pitiful pained wail the likes of which I had never heard, which turn out to translate to, "Mother? Whyfor you bake me like a Christmas roast?" One panicked call to the pediatrician later, and I was instructed to give him cool baths and have him lie around clad only in a diaper the rest of the day. Thus, delaying the a/c repair is not really an option.

Too bad it cost $1700.

Next entry: ReligionFest2003! Will my child be cleansed? Will I not lose my mind at having a dozen people under my roof? Will a giant smoking crater open up in Saint Francis Xavier and swallow me whole when I strangely remain silent during the 'Do you renounce Satan and his works?'