(This post was originally written on December 23, 2013). Today is what we, in the Ward family, like to call "Christmas Adam". Actually I think many more people call it Christmas Adam as well…it's just that I had never heard of it before I became a Ward. If you have never heard of it as well then let me enlighten you about this most special of holidays. It's a bit complicated so hold on to your brain cells. It goes like this. Tomorrow is Christmas EVE, so the day before that is Christmas ADAM! I just blew your mind. Supposing I didn't and you are still capable of reading we shall continue. As it is Christmas Adam, my house is bubbling over with excitement, cheer, speculation, and …sickness. Alas and alack 'tis true. We have had diarrhea and SERIOUS runny noses for the past week and I thought we were going to make it to the holiday with a clean bill of health until Brigham, dear Brigham started hacking his living guts out this morning. Sigh. I quarantined him early on in the day in vain hopes that my baby, Jacob, would escape. Unfortunately, Brigham and Jacob made a secret pact early this morning to share germs as much as possible throughout the day. Within a one hour time frame they shared a cup, a straw, and 15 pieces of bubble gum (I don't even want to explain that one). Needless to say, I think by Christmas proper we should have a Jacob who is hacking his living guts out. Oh well, go big or go home right?
Growing up, I lived in a 1000 sq. ft. house with one front room, one small kitchen, one bathroom customized in size for leprechauns and hobbits, and three small bedrooms. That's it. My parents raised all five of their kids there. At its squishiest point there was a several month period with eight people living there. Obviously during those "squishy" times the bathroom was a serious commodity. Fortunes were made and lost in desperate pursuit of precious time in that sanctuary. When my sister got married and all the kids came home to visit for the wedding with their spouses and kids it was a no win situation. You had to schedule five minute time slots three months in advance. It was too much for my dad, who has a serious attachment to the room itself. At the thought of not being able to get into said room at the drop of a hat he nearly lost his mind and developed some sort of psychosis. On the morning of the wedding nobody could find dear old dad until we checked the backyard. I'll never forget the sight of my very prim and proper father sitting in a childs' plastic swimming pool in his swimming suit shaving and bathing. We laughed until we cried and then kept on laughing until the realization dawned on us that we suddenly had a second bathroom and should capitalize on the idea. Reservations were taken immediately. Unfortunately, being the youngest of the group, I couldn't get an opening until mid December. Another holiday, about 10 years later, the whole family came home for Thanksgiving. Again, we were happily jammed in like sardines waiting to glut ourselves on the dinner of all dinners. Unluckily, we all came down with a serious stomach flu…at the same time…in the same house. There is nothing a childs' plastic swimming pool can do for you in a situation like that. It was horrific. An unfortunate repercussion of the PTSD I developed from the experience is that if I ever enter a building or home with one bathroom, I immediately ask if I can make a reservation for the toilet and the child's plastic swimming pool. I get a lot of odd looks, but I know that they're the ones that are going to be sorry when push comes to shove. So, in hindsight, I suppose that coughing your living guts out is not as bad as it could be. Plus, we have two bathrooms and a child's plastic swimming pool. And I have reserved them until June of 2018.
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