Today was Hotter's long-awaited eye surgery, wherein they replaced his clouded lens and monkeyed around with pupil-ring thingies, and either unblurred his vision or did nothing for his vision or effed up his vision further (we won't know until tomorrow). Because the XY spent multiple thousands of everyone's dollars at one point to ensure his right to keep the MFA Children overnight on "his" Sundays and has subsequently refused to do so on many occasions when it would benefit everyone, we had to take the younger two (Big Child's bus leaves earlier) with us to the Eye Hospital to check Hotter in, and then I doubled back with them, dropped them at school, came back home to take Isis out and put some makeup on* and then doubled BACK again.
On the way to the eye hospital the first time we were all kind of grumbling and half-awake, so I turned on the radio. The first two notes of "Blurred Lines" came on and I promptly turned it right back off again. "What was THAT about," Hotter wanted to know, and I said I'd tell him later. Instead, we listened to What Does The Fox Say on The Precious (which: FREAKING EXECRABLE, GOOD LORD). Because at aw-crap-hundred, as I later told Hotter, I was NOT up to having the kind of conversation Mr. Thicke's vocal stylings would necessitate with my eight- and nine-year-old sons (something along the lines of "yes it has a catchy beat but women who are too impaired to give informed consent to sexual relations are not fair game unless you're the kind of shitheel I would have to regret not rolling over on as a newborn, so CANWENOTKTHXBOYSGOODTALK").
As for Hotter's eye, the procedure was difficult from a technical standpoint due to everything else wrong with Hotter's eyes but went well, and the surgeon is cautiously optimistic in that the cataract was plenty bad enough to impair the vision of even an otherwise-perfect eye. We'll (hopefully) see.
* Yeah so I momentarily freaked out because not knowing what to expect from this surgery but knowing that whatever it was would be in effect as soon as it was done, I realized that "sick as a dog and fresh off two back-to-back days of double shifts" is not a good look on anyone and probably I ought to try and look cute just in case. So I did some TOTALLY UNFREAKINGNECESSARYASITTURNSOUT damage control just in case, but the shield has to stay on the eye until tomorrow's follow-up appointment with the surgeon.