Feb. 25, 2008 at 6:52am

fun with Mondays

(recapping the good & bad... and looking forward)

At about 4 this morning, The Man left for a nearly week long out-of-towner.  Typically before business trips, he makes sure to do fun and special things with the kid (and me, occasionally) and this week end was no exception.  

Saturday, we did the swim lesson/gym thing, then took kid and bike to her school to ride.  After that, it was a Rosewood sitting at the "bar" overlooking Proctor and all the good people biking away their troubles in spandex, after which The Man and I did a dive bar tour of "hot toddies in Tacoma."

Surprisingly, the best ones came from the bowling alley on 6th Ave-- the one that has mini golf, a restaurant, and pool? I think? -- we bowled a quick game (me, terribly, him, his best ever) and then I sat in front of the fire pit-ish thing and enjoyed bliss on the cheap.

The bartender/server/cook at the Unicorn looked at me as though I was a mythical creature with horny head when I asked for a hot toddy... I asked for whiskey, lemon, and honey, and got the skeptical "honey?" reply...  I asked for whiskey and orange juice and gagged it down.  Strangely, that nastiness helped the cough.

Perhaps the weirdest concoction of the evening, hot toddy style, was herbal tea, some kind of alcohol-ish flavoring (I think it might have been a splash of whiskey, I don't know) and a wedge of lemon found at the Point Defiance...Grill?>you know, that mini casino thing near the Antique Sandwich Co.  The jello-tinis  there probably had more kick to 'em, but I wasn't after kick, so much; it was all about hot throat-soothing mellowness.

The next day, I was feeling even more death-like, probably thanks to that whirlwind tour of Tacoma hotspots the night before, added to by a night of coughing.  Upon getting daughter at his mom's, we decided to go see The Spiderwick Chronicles.  Prior to that, over yummm coffee at the Metropolitan Market, I heard some sad, scary news from a good friend, and then later, heard my aunt had had a (minor) stroke. 

Whatever else was going on around me, as far as drama went, in front of us in the theatre was less drama and more effects, noise, and characteristically Nickelodeon-like slime.  There was stilted use of the phrase "oh my god." and an abundance of honey that made me laugh, in the context of the Unicorn the night before.  The Kid was on either my or his lap through the whole movie (there were some parts that were probably better for more mature audiences)(I won't spoil the end, and talk about stabbing a particular person, in particular) --but it was nice family time, at any rate.

Then we went walking/biking at Ft Steilacoom park, which was insanely crazy busy, with soccer games and massive amounts of families and kids out enjoying the sun at one of the best play structures in the South Sound.  It made me miserable, in my fragile state of fevered cough-y snottiness, though The Kid dug it.  I dug the bookshopping afterwards, getting The Kid the first Spiderwick book and another of her fairy series.

Then it was home again home again, jiggety jig; The Man prepared himself for his trip while I dosed up on Tylenol cold and watched the Oscars.  I felt like the world's biggest loser, not having seen any of the movies nominated (does Ratatouille count?) but I liked that this year the show flashed back to some of the highlights of the last eighty years.  And I loved how Jon Stewart brought back the "best song" winner (since that director hogged the mic) to say her piece, which was all about believing in your dream.  Diablo whatsherface made me happy, too.

So now, it's Monday morning.  Kid has a blazing fever, I feel hung-over from Tylenol cold PM.  The two of us will hit the covers again, after collecting nourishment and a minute of cognitive time; we will watch Disney and nap, nap, and watch Barbie movies, then nap, and have creative wiggle time (me+sewing machine, her+paint)

sounds like a day of bliss, here...