Welcome to the Jungle!!

Well, folks, I can safely say that this was one crazy weekend yet again. The madness started on Thursday and unfolded like this:

1. Me marinating 6 lbs of chicken for tandoori grilling at 1 am on Thursday night, after we came from a romantic dinner celebrating my birthday with the Diplomat.
2. Friday: cooking industrial quantities of Indian food, partying with fellow FSOs and celebrating our future post and life in Dhaka.
3. Saturday morning found me and the Diplomat at Costco, buying a digital piano and a lifetime stock of Splenda and pickles.
4. That same night the waiter in Harry's Tap tried (somewhat successfully) to squeeze 20+ people at a table for 15, including a plethora of running children all under 7 who for some reason would not sit at the bar (the waiter's idea--he clearly did not have kids). Later that night, few of us bold, energized bunnies drove to downtown Washington to dance some clumsy salsa till the wee hours in Havana Village. I have to say that the Diplomat's salsa leaves someething to be desired--one of my friends felt compeled to intervene in the middle of our dancing to show him what to do.
5. Sunday morning, Son was having his usual manic routine of running hysterically all over the apartment as if chased by a panicked herd of goats, when he tripped over a big heap of matchbox cars, fell and apparently hurt his arm. After an hour of howls of pain, snot running down his nose (and wiping naturally and prodigiously in my nice, black shirt), followed by unusual quiet and staring at the TV, I decided to take the hurt child to the hospital. X-rays were taken (to the sounds of horrified yelling, some snapping procedures tried on the elbow, and finally a miniature cast of fiberglass adjusted on his arm--his first cast!! Seconds later, Son passed out exhausted by the events. Senseless, we carried him home, where, upon waking up, he took one look at the cast, then looked me straight in the eyes and said firmly, "No!" After 56 of those Nos, I took it off. You be stronger with your child, I suppose I am not that good of a mom.
6. Sunday night found us at Diplomat's aunt's place for some seriously great idlis and other unpronounceable Indian delicacies. Son proudly peed and pooped in her garden 3 times. Good job!
All of the weekend, amidst the insanity, I kept studying the Bengali alphabet, which contains only 50 characters, most of them pretty much the same to the naked eye of the amateur. That night, I had a horrible dream that a few squiggly letters were running to catch me through the streets of Dhaka.
7. Son proceeded to have a bad night of waking ups and refusal to sleep, while trying to viciously bite us if we approach the bed. Fantastic. I ended up sleeping about 5 hrs, which is a bad idea since today I started bangla classes at 7.30 am. Did I mention that I am also working full time, while taking 4 hour classes every day? Can you say FUN? I can't, I think I am asleep as I am writing this.....