Yesterday morning Robby came bouncing into the living room, proclaimed that he was all better and asked for waffles for breakfast. He was so sick 24 hours ago that it is amazing how quickly he bounces back with a few doses of antibiotics and ibuprofen in his system. I wish I could recover as quickly!
Although he was feeling better, I knew that Robby was still recovering and needed to stay calm. Despite his protests and begging, I wouldn't let him go outside to play in the stream. He became upset when I wouldn't let him hop in the moon bounce and didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to ride his bike through the neighborhood. All of his ideas involved running, jumping or creating a mess. I wanted him to quietly play and stay calm. We were destined to butt heads all day.
Using logic by trying to explain that his body was still fighting an infection and that he needed to conserve his energy was fruitless. I finally conceded that yes, I was a "mean mean Momom" but that I wasn't changing my mind. I put on a Tom and Jerry cartoon in the living room and retreated to my bedroom for a few moments of quiet.
Enjoying my brief respite, I happily sipped on coffee and caught up on Facebook. All of a sudden I heard little feet tramping down the hallway. Robby ran into my room and quickly slammed the door behind him. This was not a good sign!
Out of breath, Robby said, "Whatever you do Momom, don't go into the living room. Don't ever go into the living room again. Your bedroom is nice. We can just live here. Please, Momom, Please. Don't go out there." Yikes- certainly not the words I wanted to hear. Being that emphatic that I not go somewhere is a surefire sign that he has done something bad.
I put on my leg and walked past my panting little boy. He continued to plea, "Momom, I wouldn't go out there if I were you." I asked him what he had done as I nervously walked down the hallway. He simply muttered, "Oh, this is not going to end good."
Turning the corner to the living room I was overwhelmed with the recognizable stench. I took a sniff and looked at Robby. "Well Momom, I saw stink bugs so I decided to whack them with my yellow hammer. I squished them- and all of their stink- on the walls. I'm sorry. I don't think that squishing the stinky bugs was my best decision."
I spent the next two hours trying to get rid of the odoriferous results of Robby's bug slaughter. The bugs, or rather what was left of them, were scraped off of my walls and thrown outside. I scrubbed the walls with Pine-Sol, adding an evergreen scent to mingle with the bug odor. I tried spraying Lysol, which only provided an artificial fresh linen scent layering over the putrid smells of pine and bugs. The overwhelming mixture of smells was beginning to make me nauseous.
Despite the cold temperature outside, I admitted defeat and opened up the windows. Robby and I retreated to the bedroom while the area aired out. Curling up on my bed to watch Scooby Doo, Robby looked at me and said, "See Momom, I told you. You shouldn't have gone out there. It's better in here." I think tomorrow he'll be well enough to go back to school.