In sickness & health

28 Feb

No one told me that the worst part about having kids is when YOU are sick.

Man oh man what I wouldn’t give for a motel room by myself right now. And possibly a bottle of Mylanta.

For some unknown reason, I have a belly that revolts at the sight of food, and the capacity to sleep for three days straight, with a roaring headache to boot. No fever of course, so no point in going to see a doctor. I’ve missed two days work, which I can ill afford.

So having screaming kids around, especially one who wears a “Fire Chief” hat and has been taught by the Dorf to say “My ass is on fire!”, is not cool right now. I just don’t feel up to it.

Of course, the one good thing is having Vivian fall asleep on Mommy in the LazyBoy. Ah, warmth.

I never thought I’d long for the day when I could suffer alone, quietly. I can’t even go to the bath room by myself.

So that’s where I’ve been. Sick, and in the bathroom.

At least the windows are protected.

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