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Kenny and I have called in sick all week.   Meaning, we’ve  stayed home sick together (no activities, playdates or unnecessary errands).    Casey’s been out of town the last three days on top of it,  and Dudley is way deprived of walks.   I wish he’d get a little sick so he’d leave us alone for a while, instead of trying to eat our snotty kleenex and stealing Kenny’s stuffed animals.

It’s nothing serious – We’ve just got monster colds, and though we both went to the doctor, there’ s really nothing other than rest and orange juice that we can do about it.   Kenny’s a pretty good sick companion.   We’ve played with every toy in his room, he’s learned to blow his nose (kind of) and we’ve eaten an entire loaf of banana-chocolate chip bread in the last 24 hours (ok, I ate more than my half).   Feed a cold and starve a fever, right?   At least our appetites aren’t lagging.

I even let him watch a whole hour of TV this morning, so I could try and get some housework done while I had the energy.   He was a Sesame Street zombie by the end, and was actually glad when the end credits rolled and I turned it off.   By tonight, for the first time since Saturday, he started running in circles (one of his signature energy-burning moves) and giggling at a funny song I sang.   He even resisted bedtime, which I was glad of, if only to mean that he is feeling better.   I can’t say I feel much better, but surely I’ve hit the peak and things are going to improve from here.   Casey’s actually lucky he’s out of town… I’ve been in the same sweats since Monday and my hair is starting to form dreadlocks.  

I’d better drag myself into the shower and find some lipstick before his plane rolls in tomorrow…