"Mommy feels like crap."
Scrunch pipes up. "What kind of sick are you?"
I motioned to my face, neck, ears, body, everywhere.
She continues. "Maybe you're puking sick."
Oh, please no. Don't jinx Mommy with puking. It's the only kind of sick I've avoided this week.
On Monday I got the plague. Tuesday I thought I was going to die. Wednesday I sucked it up and we drove to my Parent's house anyway. By that night my throat was owie. Thursday my ear drum ruptured. Friday- I don't remember there being a Friday. Saturday I thought I was just tired. Sunday confirmed it was pink eye in both eyes.
I tell you this for a couple of reasons...
#1. I don't know why chicks always lead with childbirth as the most uncomfortable time in their lives. It's not that bad. There's much worse.
#2. When you see the pictures you have an explanation. I don't do drugs. Just feel like I'd been beaten with a bag of oranges.
#3. You understand why there's only four pictures for the entire week of our "vacation". There's always fewer pictures of the third kid.
#4. You be super-duper-uber impressed that we pulled off giving Juju a Butterfly Blessing Bonanza, despite our black cloud of crud.
Thanks Mom, and Dad, and Goose, and Miq, and Husband. I'm super sorry if your sore throats turn out to be strep. And thanks Brad and Holly for driving up. If Grady gets pink eye I owe you one. I'll do your pharmacology homework for a month. Goose- If our Ez-ah-wah comes down with anything I'll be happy to take him off your hands.