They are all still sick. Hubby and both boys. I feel bad for them. I truly do. Especially the littlest one who said he isn't going to get better and better, just worse and worse 'til he dies. Poor little guy. He's very dramatic. But.....*deep breath here*...I am tired dammit! I have wiped oozing, slimy, nasty things from all over little people, I have been sneezed on, coughed on, and once in the middle of the night....peed on! (They don't put that in that little "Why Your Life Isn't Complete Without Kids" propaganda flier!! )
And while I am complaining...I know that these poor little defenseless cherubs (hubby included) are going to rush to wait on me hand and foot, keeping the house quiet and clean while I rest when this all catches up to me and they are cured. right? hrumph. You remember Hubby, of course, who wasn't sure what he wanted last week. Seems he is pretty clear on it this week while he lies in bed and calls me in to change channels and find him the soft tissues.

I am hoping that they fall asleep sparing me the third viewing of Master of Disguise (because I have truly suffered enough) and let me sit quietly with a martini and a movie of my very own choosing.

Of course, that's just 'til the floods start.....and we thought the snow was bad.