One Autumn, we aren’t going to even have a sniffle or a cough.
Well,this year ain’t the year.
Remember that sign above? Well, that was from the plague that hit us last year.
And now my darling daughter, whom we have established is Patient Zero in our house, brought home a supremely nasty GI bug.
My boys are sleeping upstairs, after having their popsicles, apple juice and Advil, which I hope stay down. One of those boys happens to be 35, but I made him take a bucket anyway.
My daughter, who was sick this weekend, is fine. So fine that I can’t almost take it.
So loud. So rambunctious. So not sick anymore.
So at home because no one was well enough to take her to school this morning.
Have you seen the Exorcist? That was my son in my ensuite last night.
Eleven at night, and I am washing the walls, floors, shower curtain and cabinet in the bathroom.
I really, really regret letting my son have chips with his hotdog last night. Those little bastards stick to things.
Don’t even ask what happened to me. Let’s just say in all my years of parenting, I have never been vomited on so thoroughly in my life. Head-to-toe spray.
See? You didn’t even have to ask, I told you anyway.
Let me add that even through my bar years, that has never happened as well. Twenty year olds have slightly more consideration and supremely better aim than a sick 6 year old.
So to those who have been in contact with us, I am so, so sorry. Wash your hands. Pray and hope. Stock up on popsicles and apple juice.
I’m impatiently awaiting my turn to nap and contemplating the option of homeschooling yet again…