I really like Wendy’s. Really, REALLY like Wendy’s. They have really good chicken sandwiches, their hamburgers are amazing (although I haven’t eaten one in over 3 years), and they have Frescata sandwiches that the dairy-challenged can eat. So, when Tom suggested that the kids and I meet him for lunch at Wendy’s today, I was excited to go.

When we got there, Tom had not arrived. So, I shuttled the four monkeys inside and we waited in line. I waited in line with the kids for about 10 minutes. That should have been my first clue that something was awry. But I guess I’m thick that way.

When we approached the counter, the girl behind it said “Cash only.” Hmmm…. I had planned to pay with a debit card. So, I asked if I could write a check, instead. Her reply was classic: “No. I said cash only.”

I snapped. Oops.

“You know, this is crazy. You seriously mean to tell me that because your credit card machine is down, and you didn’t put up any kind of sign telling people that it was down, I now have to leave because I don’t have any cash on me?”

“Yes”

“Let me talk to your manager. “

“Fine.”

The manager comes out (well, actually he tried to stay behind the counter, but I pointed at my four kids and told him it was best if he came out to speak to me).

“What can I help you with?”

“Well, I’m a little frustrated. I was just told that your credit card machine is down. You have no signs ANYWHERE letting people know this. Instead, I took my four little kids out of the car and waited in line for 10 minutes, and now I’m being told I have to leave because you won’t take checks even though your credit card machine is down. My kids are looking forward to their special lunch, but now I have to leave because I don’t have cash and your advertised payment method doesn’t work!”

“Our credit card machine just went down a few minutes ago.”

“And we’ve been in line for 10 minutes. Someone could have mentioned it to us.”

“When this happens, we can take checks. “

“I was told, by your cashier, explicitly, that you will not accept checks, even when your machine is down.”

“Well, tell her I said you could write a check.”

AARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

This is the point at which I was starting to shake. I went back and ordered, and as I was writing the check, Tom came in. With cash. But I had already started writing the damn check, and I wasn’t about to let Tom pay with cash after all the shit I had to go through to get them to take the friggin’ check.

They wanted my phone number on the check. I am waiting for my 2 AM crank calls.

And, for my Minnesota readers, this is the Wendy’s on 212/Flying Cloud Drive, just West of Prairie Center Drive. I will not be going back.

In our house, our children like to eat sweets. Brownies are a favorite. I usually don’t have a problem giving them a brownie when I have them, but with Johnny’s food allergies, I am limited in my food choices, and one of the only sweet things I can have is Vegan brownies. I made a batch a few nights ago, and, today, Emma came down and begged for a brownie.

Of course, I told her no. They were MY brownies. I DO NOT SHARE. I, after all, am the mother. I do not have to share my food. So, I don’t. Especially not when it’s special hypo-allergenic, HEPA-filtered brownies!

A minute or two later, Gracie came in the kitchen to tell me that Emma was up brushing her teeth:

“Mommy! Emma’s busshin her teef!”

“Why is Emma brushing her teeth?”

“Because she ate a bwownie!”

Emma had not only eaten the brownie she had been forbidden to eat, but she had then gone upstairs to brush her teeth to rid her mouth of the evidence. And her baby sister ratted her out! Too much CSI: Miami at Grandma and Grandpa Carty's house.

I love my kids.

Tom and I have absolutely no desire to see Snakes on a Plane. However, that does not mean that we don’t find its marketing campaign fascinating. How on Earth a movie with such an imbecilic premise could get the kind of free publicity this one has gotten is beyond us. It is, pure and simple, GENIUS; so much so that our children are also fascinated by Snakes on a Plane.

Let me explain how they even know about the movie. The answer is three-fold:

1. There are commercials for the “film” (*cough*) during one of our favorite family television shows: The Simpsons.

2. Emma can read, and often tells us what movies are playing down at the Chaska Cinema. This week, she told me that “Snakes on a Plane is now in theaters.” Then Patrick and Gracie were also made aware of the status of the movie.

3. Tom’s cousin Peter (www.thetierneys.com/ny) sent a link to a YouTube vignette made by one of his friends. It was a tribute to Snakes on a Plane recorded to the music of “Band on the Run.” It can be found at http://youtube.com/watch?v=cb6YZNlyaXw. I made the mistake of playing it while the kids were around. Mostly, it’s harmless, but there is a bit about getting “your mfing snakes off my mfing plane” that you might not want your kids to hear. Anyway, I got the damn song stuck in my head and have been singing (well, let’s face it, I may call it singing, but we all know that I can’t carry a tune in a steam shovel) it over and over for four days. So, they heard it mentioned time and time again when I would warble “Snaaakes on a plane! Snaaaakes on a PLA-ANE!”

So, this leads me to the funny part. The other night at dinner, Patrick asked us, out of the blue, the following:

“Daddy, why were the snakes on the plane? Were they going on a trip? Were they going to Ohio like we did?”

To which, Emma responded:

“Let’s go to www dot snakesonaplane dot com slash whywerethesnakesontheplane to find out. That should tell us.”

Tom and I weren’t really sure how to respond. Her grasp of the Internet is both amusing and frightening. When we were five years old, there was no Internet, except in the deepest recesses of the Defense Department and Al Gore’s imagination (he invented the Internet, donchknow!), so we certainly wouldn’t suggest going there to look something up. But I also doubt that either of us would say “Let’s go to the Funk and Wagnall’s Sa-St volume and look up Snakes on a Plane to find out!” I just don’t think that we were that curious.

So, we explained that we didn’t think that the Internet address she provided would work, but that we could use Google to help us find the answer. Then she asked if she could play Google Games instead.

Ah, the folly of youth. I would have much preferred Yahoo! Games.

Fo’ shizzle.

Well, it’s been a month, and we’ve been to Texas and back. It was a great trip, although I didn’t get to see two of my closest and oldest (haha, MacLean – you’re OLD!!) friends because…

Wait for it…

Wait for it…

THE KIDS ALL GOT SICK!

Yes, Tom was not there, so it was time for illnesses. It all started the Wednesday after Tom left. The kids and I were at my sister’s house eating lunch, and Patrick stood up and puked all over her floor. Since puking is often caused by Patrick’s allergies, I didn’t think too much of it. I just figured that he had eaten something with yellow dye in it. But then he got a fever. Crap. Crapcrapcrap.

So, on Thursday he spent the day with a nice fever. Thursday night, I was meeting two of my oldest friends for dinner, and I really didn’t want to miss it. So, my mother insisted that she would take care of Patrick while I went. After two hours, I got the call: Patrick had thrown up again and was sounding very croupy. I headed back to the folks’ estate and mentally prepared myself for a night of no sleep.

When I got home, Patrick was curled up on a leather chair with Blankie. I put him in my bed, and then I got Johnny down and crashed. A few hours later, around 4AM, Patrick woke up in a horrible coughing fit. I took him out to the kitchen to give him a breathing treatment in an attempt to open up his airways. It helped calm him down, but he was still really croupy. His cough was so bad that my father came out to check on us, and headed straight back to his room to get dressed – we were headed to the emergency room.

At the emergency room, Dad stayed in the car with Johnny while I took Patrick in. Thank goodness for that – Dad hates vomiting, and some poor young man (maybe 20 years old) was in the waiting room regurgitating his last 6 meals. It would have made my father a basket case.

Anyway, they took Patrick back pretty quickly and diagnosed croup. Since he was feeling so crappy and since he was having so much trouble breathing, they gave him high-dose steroids before we left. I guess my dream of him riding in the Tour de France this year is shot, huh? Anyway, he started to improve by about 7 AM, and he and I (and good old Johnny) slept until around 10 AM.

I thought that might be the end of it, but…

Monday morning at 4 AM, Gracie woke up with the coughing. I took her to a weird little urgent care/ER in The Woodlands, Texas. It was nice because there was no wait, but it was expensive, since it was an ER co-pay. Anyway, they diagnosed her croup, but also an added bonus, they told me that they thought she had pneumonia. They decided not to do a chest x-ray because she hadn’t been on antibiotics in over a year (as far as I could recall), and instead just put her on Amoxicillin. They also put her on prescription steroids for the croup. Within about 2 hours of her first dose of Amoxicillin, she started to improve.

That left just Emma and Johnny. On Monday afternoon, Emma puked. Then she puked Monday night. So, I waited. I figured that if she got the cough, we would just wait it out, since she is older and it’s only a virus. But then her cough got nasty, and Johnny and I started to get icky, so I scheduled an appointment with our old pediatrician’s office (Dr. Abel Paredes is awesome, in case anyone has a kid in Houston and needs a new pediatrician). Dr. Crane-Story, Dr. P’s partner, was able to see us and told me that Emma had bronchitis, but that Johnny was okay. So, we went to Walgreen’s and got Emma’s medication. I had two kids with three different medications (four meds if you count Emma’s daily kidney meds) to juggle. Sheesh.

Anyway, by that weekend they were all fine, but not before they infected everyone else. All told, 12 people showed symptoms of whatever it was Patrick had. There were the five of us, five nieces, one nephew, and a sister. And poor Patrick was Patient Zero. Thank goodness it wasn’t that dreadful bird flu I’ve been hearing so much about. You know, the one that George Bush created in Karl Rove’s laboratory (pronounced, of course, lah-boor-a-tor-ee).

Anyway, otherwise it was a great trip. I got to see my grandfather, which was wonderful, and my cousin Charlie, which was also fun (the kids LOVED him – I felt sorry for him because they wouldn’t leave him alone). I got to visit all the old restaurants I love, but couldn’t eat at any of them because of Johnny’s allergies. I got to see some Thetas, and they all look so fantastic. The car trip was great – our kids have been raised in that minivan, so they know how to behave (although we had to get a new battery for the van at 8 PM the night before we left for home because the one we had installed last summer died without warning while we were in church – does that strike you as a sign??).

But, we’re back home, getting ready for school to start. Buying clothes, uniforms and supplies and getting back to a reasonable sleep schedule. I’ll try to update more now that we’re back.

Did you miss me?