The Day Everything Went Wrong

There are some days where everything goes wonderfully right. The sky is a clear blue, your husband and children are sweet and agreeable. On these days, you come home to find that dinner has been cooked, the table set, and your son volunteers to clean up after rather than spending his time romping through the Gardens tearing up his clothes. Days like this are more common than rare, but then there was a day when everything went wrong.

I had had a rather exhausting time the day before. Underland was in the grips of spotty pox, a highly contagious, but luckily not fatal disease that caused the person affected to break out in yellow and purple spots. It also caused fevers, dizziness, and coughs. I had spent the entire day going from house to house administering medicine-and thanking Time I'd caught a mild dose when young that made me immune.

The first indication I had that it would be a Wrong Day was when I woke up to the feeling of something cold and wet under the covers. Naturally, being the brave and competent woman that I am, I screamed and leapt out of the bed to land with a hard thump on the floor. Whipping the sheets aside, I noticed that 'somebody' (and I had a pretty good idea who) had placed a large toad in the bed. For what purpose, I still haven't been able to figure out all these years later.

I decided to deal with the problem in a calm, rational manner. "MICHAEL STAYNE GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE NOW!"

Ilosovic blinked awake, giving me a sleepy glance of bewilderment. "Alannah, might I ask why you are screeching like a banshee at this hour of the morning?"

I gaped at him, my mouth working in silent disbelief for several moments. Finally, I was able to speak. "You…you…you don't see the frumious toad that's in our bed? !"

Ilosovic glanced at the toad for several moments. "Huh."

"HUH? ! HUH? ! There is a bloody toad in the bed and all you can think to say is HUH? !"

He shrugged. "Well, it's not like you haven't handled toads before. Don't you use them quite a bit in potions brewing?"

I barely resisted the urge to smack him, instead speaking in a calm voice. "That is different. I don't mind handling them, but forgive me if I don't like waking up to cold toad on my feet."

The sound of shuffling footsteps made me turn around, and I glared at Michael, my eyes slightly red. "You had better have a damn good explanation of how this toad got here. For Time's sake, Michael, you're nearly ten! Grow up, why can't you? !"

Michael gave me a look of total surprise. "But Mummy, I didn't…"

My eyes darkened even further. "Don't you dare lie to me! How else would this animal get in the bed? I didn't put it there. Your daddy certainly didn't, and I know your sisters didn't. So quit trying to lie!"

Michael was nearly blubbering by now. "Bu…but…I didn't."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Right. Go to your room and don't come out until you are ready to tell me the truth." He nodded, then turned and ran back to his room, bawling. Ilosovic watched him leave, then turned and glared at me in anger.

"For Time's sake, Alannah, what is your problem? ! He said he didn't do it, and you practically scream at him! Did you really have to go all red eyed to prove some sort of point? ! He's nine years old, give him a break!"

I slammed my hand down on the dresser. "Don't you start on me, Ilosovic! I'm well within my rights to punish my son!"

"Yes, but not for something you can't prove he did! The window was open all night, isn't it possible that a toad might have hopped in?"

I placed my head in my hands, trying to remain calm. "Yes, it's possible! It's also possible that Tarrant could learn to dance ballet, but I don't think it's likely! Look, just drop it, alright? I've got a lot of things to do today and the last thing I need is you breathing down my neck."

He glared at me, his arms crossed. "I'll drop it if you apologize to Michael-without accusing him, directly or indirectly, of putting the toad in the bed."

I sighed, wanting this dumb argument to end. "Fine, I'll apologize. MICHAEL!"

Ilosovic snorted. "So you're going to call him on the carpet again to apologize? Some apology. Reminds me of the way my mother would apologize. Left me feeling worse than ever."

I blinked at him in anger. "Are you comparing me to your parents? I am nothing like them!"

"When you act like a Bandersnatch in heat, what else am I supposed to think? I knew you had a temper, but I never thought you could be this…this…"

"This what, Ilosovic? This what?"

"Slurvish."

I gawped at him before exploding in anger. "SLURVISH! You…you…leomh conas tu glaoch orm go!"

"Alannah, you are being slurvish and a bit pilger-lickering. Calma sios."

I gave a yell of rage before storming out of the bedroom, nearly colliding with Michael. "Why don't you watch where you're going? !" I immediately regretted yelling at him. He gave a loud cry and ran into the bedroom, hiding behind his father. I slumped against the wall, trying not to cry, and then I heard Katarina speak in a timid voice.

"Mum?"

"What?"

She gulped, and I tried to speak calmly. "Katarina, what?"

"Vicki'sinthekitchen."

"WHAT? !" I ran into the kitchen, gaping in shock at the sight before my eyes. It was a shambles-flour and eggs were everywhere, a bowl of strawberries had been overturned and smashed on the counter, and in the middle of the floor, completely naked and covered in flour and strawberry juice, sat my three month old daughter, happily banging away on my best pot with a block of wood.

"KATARINA, MICHAEL GET IN HERE!" Katarina walked into the kitchen, unaccompanied by her brother. "MICHAEL STAYNE!"

"NO!"

"MICHAEL, I WILL NOT CALL YOU AGAIN! GET IN HERE!"

"DADDY, TELL MOMMY TO QUIT YELLING AT ME! I DIDN'T PUT THE TOAD IN THE BED!"

Ilosovic came out, Michael hiding behind his legs, and glared at me in anger. "He's telling the truth."

I snorted. "Oh, is he?"

Katarina spoke up in defense of her brother. "Yes! He wouldn't put toads in your bed! He had it in his room and it hopped away. I saw it!"

I nodded. "Fine, but moving on past the toad, would one of you care to explain why your sister is sitting on my kitchen floor without a single stitch of clothing on?"

Michael shook his head, still refusing to look at me, and I sighed. "Fine. Katarina, explanations please."

Katarina stared at the floor, silent as a dormouse. I rubbed my forehead, then took a deep breath. "Fine, since neither of you have an explanation, then neither of you are going to eat a single bite of food until my kitchen is spotless. I'll clean up Victoria, but you two are responsible for that mess in there, and if I hear one word out of either of you that isn't 'Yes mum, right away mum,' I will send you to clean out the Bandersnatch's stall. Am I clear?"

Katarina nodded, blinking back tears, and I looked over at Michael. "Michael, am I clear?"

He nodded, and I scooped a protesting Victoria off the floor and carried her towards the bathroom, speaking to my two oldest. "Good, then get started, and don't you dare complain!"

I was scrubbing the strawberry off Vicki's face when Ilosovic came in, standing in the doorway. "Alannah, what's the matter? You're usually not this snappish. Did you have a bad day yesterday?"

I sighed, shutting my eyes as Vicki splashed about, babbling. "No, I had a good day yesterday."

"Bad dreams then?"

"No, nothing like that."

He sighed. "Then what?"

I dropped the washcloth in the tub, and then turned to face him. "I don't know what's wrong." I gulped, and then began to sob, causing Vicki to look at me in shock and start bawling in counterpoint. "I don't know why I'm so snappy today."

He walked over to the tub, kneeling down next to me, and I leaned into him, sobbing and hiccupping. "Could it have anything to do with the fact that you've been attending to half of Underland lately? I've seen you when you come home-you're exhausted. Alannah, I know you're trying to do all you can for the people suffering from spotty pox, but if you keep going at this rate, you are going to collapse."

I gave a bitter laugh. "I don't have much choice, love. I'm the only Healer around that's already had it."

"What about Mirana? She's immune, and she has the Skills to brew the antidote."

"Yes, and she also has a Kingdom to run. She can't very well stop doing that to run all over Underland. That leaves me."

At that moment, Katarina came into the bathroom. "Mum, there's a carriage outside for you."

"BARLOM!" I stood and ran out of the bathroom, calling over my shoulder. "Ilosovic, look after things while I'm gone!"

I should have known that a disastrous morning would spawn a disastrous day. I'll spare you the details-suffice it to say that everything that could go wrong, did. I stumbled into the cottage exhausted, angry, and tearful, collapsing on the couch.

Michael came over, climbing next to me and wrapping his arms around me. "Momma, I'm sorry I fought with you today."

I blinked, then started crying, wrapping my arms around him. "I'm sorry too, love. Your momma's been a bit overwhelmed lately. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. You and your sisters and daddy mean more to me than anything in this world. You know that, right?"

Michael nodded, and I kissed the top of his head. "Good. Is Vicki in bed?"

"Yes, Daidi put her down. He and Katarina were out in the Garden a few moments ago."

I looked up as my husband and eldest daughter came in, the latter holding what I recognized as my herbs basket. "Momma, Daidi and I picked your herbs while you were gone, but we had to wait until now to pick the night blooming reedflowers." She showed me the basket, which was full to overflowing with flowers, herbs, and plants-everything I needed to brew more potions. Katarina gave me a half smile. "Are you still mad at Michael and me, Momma?"

"No, my bairn. I'm not mad at you. Come on up here."

She climbed onto the couch and sat on my other side, leaning against me. "We cleaned up the kitchen really nicely, did you see?"

"I did."

Michael spoke up. "Do you promise you aren't mad at us?"

"I promise, and I'm not mad at your Daidi, either." I smiled at Ilosovic. "You can come sit with us."

He walked over, and Michael scooted over so he could sit next to me. Ilosovic leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I'll expect a thorough apology later."

Katarina and Michael giggled at my blush. "Momma?"

"Yes, Michael?"

"Could you sing a song?"

I smiled, knowing that him asking me to sing was a way of burying the hatchet, and making up for the rotten day I had had.

"I'd be glad to."

"I'll tell thee everything I can:

There's little to relate.

I saw an aged aged man,

A-sitting on a gate.

"Who are you, aged man?" I said,

"And how is it you live?"

And his answer trickled through my head,

Like water through a sieve.

He said "I look for butterflies

That sleep among the wheat:

I make them into mutton-pies,

And sell them in the street.

I sell them unto men," he said,

"Who sail on stormy seas;

And that's the way I get my bread -

A trifle, if you please."

But I was thinking of a plan

To dye one's whiskers green,

And always use so large a fan

That they could not be seen.

So, having no reply to give

To what the old man said,

I cried "Come, tell me how you live!"

And thumped him on the head.

His accents mild took up the tale:

He said "I go my ways,

And when I find a mountain-rill,

I set it in a blaze;

And thence they make a stuff they call

Rowland's' Macassar-Oil -

Yet two pence-halfpenny is all

They give me for my toil."

But I was thinking of a way

To feed oneself on batter,

And so go on from day to day

Getting a little fatter.

I shook him well from side to side,

Until his face was blue:

"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,

"And what it is you do!"

He said "I hunt for haddocks' eyes

Among the heather bright,

And work them into waistcoat-buttons

In the silent night.

And these I do not sell for gold

Or coin of silvery shine,

But for a copper halfpenny,

And that will purchase nine.

"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,

Or set limed twigs for crabs:

I sometimes search the grassy knolls

For wheels of Hansom-cabs.

And that's the way" (he gave a wink)

"By which I get my wealth-

And very gladly will I drink

Your Honour's noble health."

I heard him then, for I had just

Completed my design

To keep the Menai bridge from rust

By boiling it in wine.

I thanked him much for telling me

The way he got his wealth,

But chiefly for his wish that he

Might drink my noble health.

And now, if e'er by chance I put

My fingers into glue,

Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot

Into a left-hand shoe,

Or if I drop upon my toe

A very heavy weight,

I weep, for it reminds me so

Of that old man I used to know-

Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow

Whose hair was whiter than the snow,

Whose face was very like a crow,

With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,

Who seemed distracted with his woe,

Who rocked his body to and fro,

And muttered mumblingly and low,

As if his mouth were full of dough,

Who snorted like a buffalo-

That summer evening long ago,

A-sitting on a gate."

That night, as I lay in bed, I reflected on the fact that even a Wrong Day can end up Right.