Kind of an obvious post today. I mention this not-quite-a-pandemic since there is a possibility that my husband will insist that our children and myself stop leaving the house. He actually said that going to the playground is a bad idea. CAN YOU IMAGINE saying that to someone who is in charge of 2 2.5 year olds? That is crazy talk. Really crazy. His reasoning, of course, absurdly protective at best, completely paranoid at worst, is that if there are sick peeps at the playground, they are wiping their noses, coughing, rubbing their eyes all over the equipment, then our kids go there and touch the scourge, then rub their own eyes, and put their hands in their mouths. My reasoning is, isn’t there always a flu of some sort flying around? Won’t us locked up in the house until the swine flu has burned through the country also make us all crazy? He’s not the potential crazy person staying home with little children all day, I am. This issue must be resolved. I will not be avoiding all public places in the lovely warm weather, of this I am certain.
On a slightly more baffling note, the past week and a half, Baltimore City has been first, digging a huge hole in my front lawn in search of a pipe they did not locate, then filling it up, then pulled up two sections of the sidewalk in front of our house, doing something to a pipe, repairing it, then leaving that, too, a big dirt/mud pile. Meanwhile, I have gazed longingly at the pink tree as unseasonably hot weather has burst then almost brought the tree to it’s horrible end in the same amount of time. The hot as hell weather finally passed last night during a cleansing rain, but slight winds have also caused some of my fave petals of my fave tree to blow off. Though it is still heavy with blooms, I’m afraid this year’s enjoyment of my pink crepe papier tree has been squashed. I hope the DPW gets the sidewalks and grass replaced before it is too late for me to take the girls for some strolls through the mad pink snowstorm of the tree’s final colorful explosion.