A Plague Set Upon Thee

Everyone in my house is sick…except me.  And maybe the dog.  But since she suffers from a general, everyday kind of malaise – she doesn’t really count.

The first person to catch the sick was my 2-year-old on the day of her birthday.  Good tidings to come, barump a pum dum.  Snotty came, followed by sneezy, coughy, stuffed-up, and fever.  I hate fever.  Mommy of course, got no sleep for several nights.

The second person to catch the sick was my husband.  I now know why women give birth – When I asked him how he was feeling on a scale of 1-10, 0 being a trip to the morgue, he weakly held up 2 fingers.  I pat myself on the back for not rolling my eyes.  He’s home from work for the 2nd day in a row.  Since the sick seems to last about 3 days, I look forward to a fun-filled weekend.

And then baby caught the sick, which has been really stressful.  He has fever, stuffy nose, cough, and a general uncomfortableness that the poor thing hides with a gummy smile.  I keep telling him to give it to me – I’d much rather be sick and then see him have it.  Meanwhile though, I’m running around between the 3 of them so much, I’m practically wilting.  Whoever said this mommy thing was cake has never eaten the cake over here.  It’s a doozy.


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