Man, this is the third day in a row that Daphne has woken with a temp, even on her second day of antibiotics. Long live Wednesday.
Also, I am certifiably sick as well, with the whole “I had a code ib by dose” diction and sniffly punctuation. After dropping the boys at school and firing off an email to a teacher, assuring her that I do, in fact, bathe my children every day, sometimes twice, and that they have clean clothes when they leave the house no matter what they look like after recess, I scrubbed my face and hands, chugged some Dayquill, and sat here to see if I could stand it.
I might last long enough to hit “publish.” I guess you’ll know that when you read this.
Anyone else not answering thier phones? I mean, I’m a bad American and a fraud for not voting yesterday (see, sick kids and moms might account for lower turnouts; who wants to wait in line as a restless, germy, family of four?), but COME ON. If Dean McCain is still calling me at 4 pm with anything but a reminder to get out there and vote, he’s maybe a little late with the messaging. Minds were made up, man, stop leaving me voice mail. At least during the last elections, I received calls from Arnold, Clint Eastwood, and other hunky celebs. Not McCain.
Yipee. Daphne’s medication has kicked in way ahead of mine, and she’s begging me to do a puzzle with her. Gee, I hope it has a lot of tiny pieces. Anyone remember Schmuzzles? That would make my head explode.