2009 called.

Your services here are no longer needed. Frankly, you weren’t very kind.

2009, we got this.

On Christmas night, Jeff came down with the flu. You know, the flu that Troy and I had last week, but no one really noticed because I managed to work at the store, purchase Christmas gifts, take care of two kids and make (buy) dinner. (Note: He rarely gets sick and I honestly don’t mind taking care of peeps when they have the sickies, but man-sick is sick plus drama times a thousand.) So, Jeff decided at midnight he needs some medicine to help him sleep and take the edge off of his sickness. He said he wasn’t sure if he would be able to drive (SIGH), so I said I would run across town to the drugstore that I knew would be open. He then decided he would go with me to pick out the medicine he thought would work the best. Fine, whatever Sparky, get in the car.

We make it to the drugstore and the parking lot is totally empty. Jeff picks out some medicine that isn’t available off the shelf and we have to take a card thingy to the pharmacy so they can make sure we legit. We stand at the pharmacy counter for what seems like a year and the pharmacy guy finally comes out of the back (all annoyed like) with a napkin tucked in his shirt, finishing a burger and asks if he can help us…um, yeah, you can. You can start buy taking that godforsaken napkin out of the front of your shirt and go back to putting NyQuil on the shelf so I can walk in and buy it and get the hell home so that my sick husband will go to sleep and I can get back to my Shiraz and my TiVo. Instead, Jeff just tells him we need some medicine and hands him the card. He gives me the hairy eyeball and Jeff the once over and begrudgingly decides to allow us to make our purchase.

Jeff is standing at the counter with his wallet out and the pharmacist asks for Jeff’s ID. It’s obvious that Jeff is ill, he is wearing sweats, Crocs (possible sign of something askew mentally), a weird hat with ear flaps and is coughing up a lung. For some reason, Jeff does not have his ID. I hand the guy mine and you can tell he does not approve of our identification shenanigans. I pay and we finally load back into the truck, a good 20 minutes after we went into the drugstore.

Me: “That was totally weird. Like the Twilight Zone.”

Jeff: “Man, I’m really sick.”

Me: “Yeah, you mentioned it.”

Jeff: “It’s a good thing you had your ID. I wonder where mine is.”

Me: “I’m surprised that guy let me buy it.”

Jeff: “Maybe he thought you were my mom.”

Troy + Brobee = Most Favoritest Toy

Jeff + Beer = Happy Daddy

Troy + Momma = What The Crap Is In His Mouth?

Zoe + Ninja Training = Prepare To Die

Zoe + Nana = Ninja Pact-Life In Exchange For Webkinz

I hereby vow next year to not wait until Christmas Eve to go to Costco/mall/drugstore and have the presents under the tree before 10:45 p.m. 2009 is really going to be my year, I can feel it.