Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Cuts

Unfortunately, there's no such thing as a water proof band-aid. Really. There's not. It's total false advertising.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Poo

I just realized the 3 previous posts all contain the word poo. So, anyway, I called the gym and talked to the "manager". It was SO LAME. She was a jerk, and although she's the "manager", after I told her what happened, she confessed that she's only worked there since Friday. Somehow this must remove her from any accountability I guess.

I wasn't calling to yell at anyone or to be rude, or to say you're paying my hospital bills or anything like that, I just wanted them to be aware that there was ROTAVIRUS going around in their gym and that they might not want to let babies play in the toilet. I could barely even express one full thought as she kept talking and talking and talking OVER ME and getting louder and louder and faster and cutting me off. She was so defensive and kept making light of the situation. She said things like, "Babies, like, totally get out of the gated area sometimes" and "we, like, totally clean our toys" and "only like one other person has called about a sick child" and "I totally wasn't even here that day". None of these things made me feel better. I know babies get out. I know they don't clean their toys. And it doesn't matter that only one other mom had called. What about the 19 other mom's who's kids got sick there that didn't call? And what about babies in the toilet who don't get their hands washed or who could have drowned in the toilet? And what about your lame attitude? And what about that fact that you stuff the play room past capacity and let sick, booger infest kids play in there? And what about the brick that might crash through your window later this week? Huh? 'Cause that, like, totally happens sometimes.