I can't remember most things right now because I am running off of two non-sequential hours of sleep. All will be made apparent in a minute. Let me explain.
Back in April (yeah I know) we received news that our renter for our home in Taylorsville was losing her housing funding, and that she had to move. After much thought, and prayers, we (mainly me pushing really hard) decided that the best option would be to fix up the house and sell it. So after it took us a month and a half to get our old renter and her ten kids out (yep ten kids, ridiculous right, I mean who is so irresponsible that they have ten kids (disclaimer: I am not a dick, I also came from a family of ten kids, so therefore I can make fun of them and say anything I want about irresponsibility)) we began the most fragrant task of fixing up the house. After approximately six weeks it was ready after new paint, cabinets, floors, appliances, walls, toilets, dirt, grass, air, pipes, fixtures, about a thousand magic erasers, jeans that are now jean shorts, several shirts, a tetanus shot, the equivalent of a bio decontaminate scrub down in my mother in law's garage (by my wife, not my mother in law), approximately 1700 trips to the home depot, lots of money, and sprinklers.
Sprinklers is where this whole thing started. We had been spending every weekend down in Taylorsville fixing the house, and on this particular day (Monday) I was finishing up some things on the sprinkler system, when suddenly nothing was working. I would turn on the water, and water was gushing out of a broken pipe, then another zone was half on, and I had no idea what was going on. So after about 8 trips to the home depot, I still had no idea what was wrong, I was already late for work (up in Logan) and the kids wanted to go to Lagoon. I had my car, and Kara had the mini-van, and we were off. I was heading home to shower and go to work, and Kara took the kids to Lagoon. The plan was to hire (get this) a Professional, to fix the sprinklers. I know, crazy right. Sprinklers are like Legos, they just fit together, and only an idiot hired a profi. Well, call me an idiot because it was the best time saver I ever found. Expensive, but worth it.
So after the stress of the sprinklers, I'm on my way home, and I haven't had lunch. So I stop in North Ogden at the Maverick to get a Cheddar Wurst (hot dog with Cheese) and a drink. After the purchase... my car won't start. I try to get it jumped, twice. Nothing. I make the call to Kara, who btw is already at Lagoon with the kids, and tell her the news. I hear in the background a collective "Noooooooooo" when Kara breaks the news to the kids. Luckily my kids are awesome, and leave without complaint. Plus we splurged and got season passes this year, so the kids are more amiable to short lagoon trips. Kara comes and gets me, and I get to work about three hours late.
Wednesday. It's my starter and we have a mechanic in Ogden working on it. So I am mounting up on my motorcycle to ride to work. After one block, I pull me left lever to disengage the clutch, and
SNAP! My clutch cable snaps in half, leaving me riding along, in gear, with no way to stop.
Luckily I was only in second gear, and my bike just putters to a stop.
Friday- We go camping.
Saturday- I help my dad move all of his stuff out of his office (he's retiring), and after we are done, I climb into the minivan, that we just took camping, and suddenly I hear animal sounds inside the stow and go. A family of beavers has taken over my van and are now attacking my children with their giant beaver teeth. Mollie is bleeding profusely from an arm wound but has a baby beaver by the tail and she is repeatedly beating it against the glass window. Lukas has lost a shoe, his hat, and an eye, but has the hot dog roasters and is using them as spears to keep the beavers at bay. London lay there like a slug, it was her only defense.
Ok that didn't really happen. Here's the real story.
BEARS!!!!!
My wife is reading this over my shoulder and now wants me to erase the whole thing about the beavers and tell the truth. I will do the latter.
The minivan starts to over heat. The temperature gauge is rising to the red, and all I can do on this hot June day is turn on the heater and open the windows. My father in law gives me and my family a ride up to North Ogden where my car is waiting, supposedly fixed and ready to go (did you notice the word supposedly).
In one week all three vehicles are out of commission. The next day I rode my bicycle to work. Nothing has happened to it... yet.
A week goes by. Somewhat quiet.
Fourth of July is fun, except for the storm that prevents us from lighting off fireworks.
Sunday we light off the rest of our fireworks, Mollie sprays a whole bottle of perfume in our whole house while we are lighting off fireworks. Neighbor kids are also fully saturated by said perfume. Our house now smells like a junior high girls locker room, if girls used the same amount of perfume as teenage boys did. Everyone goes to bed with a migraine (including our neighbors).
Sunday Night- We are awoken to a sound of liquid hitting sheets. London...has thrown up.
Monday- London's vomiting has subsided to the point where Kara feels safe to take the kids down to Salt Lake to pick up our van. The plan is to drive to Ogden, take FrontRunner, pick up the car, her wedding ring (which is being refurbished for her birthday) and head back up to Logan.
So much for plans. On the way to Ogden (btw I was at work this whole time), the kids roll down the driver's side back window, and it won't roll back up. She leaves the car with the same mechanic who recommends that we just sell the vehicle.
Kara misses the first train and has to wait for the second. She finally gets down to Salt Lake with all the kids, picks up the van, the ring, and is about ready to go home.
No story is complete without a trip to the emergency room.
Lukas was rough housing with his cousin, and somehow slammed the back of his head into the movie screen at grandma's house, resulting in a gash the requires, not stitches, but STAPLES.
I was not there, but according to Kara, he was a tough little dude. Didn't cry, just whimpered a little. Now contrast this with our other children, let's say Nikki. At the mere mention of pain, she acts like the dude from How to train your dragon that keeps yelling out "Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt." Like seriously, when she had some teeth pulled and the novocane (not sure if that is spelled right) started to wear off, she started acting like a crazy drunk person, yelling and screaming and falling all over the place. Drool everywhere. I contemplated taking a picture, but the thought occurred to me that my daughter might be in pain, and needed comfort instead of an instagram moment.
Lukas did none of that stuff. He's fine and even shows off the stitches.
I went to a movie with my students. Inside Out. great show. Kara got up to Logan at 11:30 pm instead of 8 pm, like she originally planned. She was not happy.
Wednesday. My sister in law works at Harmons, and it is their lagoon day (yes back to lagoon). After Nikki goes to dance and I work for a token amount of hours, we head down, in the rain, and we hydroplane on the freeway (don't worry we don't crash). We get to ride Cannibal, all the kids are having fun, and even London (who we were worried wasn't fully recovered) is doing great.
Wednesday afternoon. Mollie falls asleep. Mollie wakes up. Mollie barfs all over the side of the wagon, not once, not twice, but three times. Time to go
5 minutes after Mollie pukes: Lukas informs me he doesn't feel good either. We make it back to the pavilion where our stuff is, and Lukas unloads (in a garbage bag). Right after his stomach empties, he wipes his mouth and says "Can I go on more rides now?"
That's my boy.
We load the kids into the car, I'm in the back holding bags up to the kids who alternate between puking and sleeping. We arrive home and Kara immediately brings Mollie in to put her in the bath. Nikki (who is not barfing) runs inside and locks the door to her room and stays there. Somehow London got into the house. My job is to bring Lukas in. Right after he exits the car, he panics and tries to get the bag out of my hand that he has already barfed in. Instead he runs to the bushes and unloads. We now have read bushes (cotton candy). He's sad, embarrassed, and tired. I pick him up and take him inside, where he informs me "Dad, I pooped my pants."
yep, Diareahh.
I like especially how he decided to tell me after I was carrying him.
Inside Kara has made a similar discovery with Mollie.
Their underpants are thrown away. Kids are bathed, and put to bed.
Nikki has London in her room (that's where she went) and Nikki is terrified of getting the flu. As we are talking outside of the bathroom, Mollie emerges again, vomit erupting out of her mouth, and staggering toward the bathroom crying "daaaadyyy". Nikki screams "MOLLIE" and runs back to her bedroom and locks the door. Seriously it was like she was a zombie or something (albeit rather humorous). We finally get Mollie back in bed, when Lukas wakes up, pukes, and poops in his bed this time.
It's 1 am.
We finally lay down to sleep, when we hear someone emerge from Nikki's room. Someone bolts into the bathroom and unloads something fierce. Nikki now has the flu.
Throughout the rest of the night, Kara and I are awakened roughly 3 times every hour to attend to a child. Between the hours of 4 and six, the children have finally passed the worst of it. We fall asleep.
I'm awoken by London.....
Asking for some milk.
She's feeling better.
Downstairs I hear the TV on.
It's Lukas, he's watching TV.
He want's cereal.
Mollie wakes up and puts on makeup.
They're both fine.
Nikki is on the mend too.
Now we wait.... to see if and when Kara and I get sick.
I went to work.
Sorry everyone at work.
hiihih
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