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| Me. I know I look a little awkward. These self-portraits-in-the-mirror-with-my-iPhone shots never quite work for me. |
My kids both get the flu within 20 minutes of each other on the day after Christmas. How do I know this? Did I spend $300 with our crappy insurance to bring them in and have someone tell me what I already knew? No. I knew because they sweated fevers on me, pooped on me, threw up on me (and the 20 feet down the hallway to the toilet), snotted on me, cried with stomach pain while gripping me, and slept for three days straight.
I also know because I got it three days later and then had it for the next seven days.
Meanwhile, on day three of me dying of slow flu death, our friends Paul and Stacey came into town - sans kids - for an action-packed vacation to Texas. A vacation that included me dragging my feverish body from bed to use an expensive ticket to a party for New Years where I infected everyone in the greater DFW area by using the toilets repeatedly and then ralphing all my hours of sipped water over the balcony at midnight. A vacation where our friend Paul was struck down with vertigo the next evening and spent the night by the toilet. A vacation where Rob, weak with fever, collapsed on the floor on his way to the bathroom in the middle of the following night, but I was so sick and so insanely crabby with his continuous moaning in bed that I just left him there to sleep for hours. A vacation where Paul, Rob, and I sat under blankets in the living room and didn't move and hardly ate and watched 839283 hours of Moonshiners on the Discovery Channel while Stacey took care of us and was a real parent to my kids.
Meanwhile, on day three of me dying of slow flu death, our friends Paul and Stacey came into town - sans kids - for an action-packed vacation to Texas. A vacation that included me dragging my feverish body from bed to use an expensive ticket to a party for New Years where I infected everyone in the greater DFW area by using the toilets repeatedly and then ralphing all my hours of sipped water over the balcony at midnight. A vacation where our friend Paul was struck down with vertigo the next evening and spent the night by the toilet. A vacation where Rob, weak with fever, collapsed on the floor on his way to the bathroom in the middle of the following night, but I was so sick and so insanely crabby with his continuous moaning in bed that I just left him there to sleep for hours. A vacation where Paul, Rob, and I sat under blankets in the living room and didn't move and hardly ate and watched 839283 hours of Moonshiners on the Discovery Channel while Stacey took care of us and was a real parent to my kids.
And then I got pleurisy and cried and finally sucked it up and spent Jannika's college money to go to urgent care, where I was also diagnosed with pneumonia. And then Rob was diagnosed with bronchitis. And then Silas was (officially this time) diagnosed with a SECOND flu. (Did you know this was realistically feasible?? To get two different flu strains within 12 days?? You heard it here first.)
So now I have Second Time Around Flu Boy back on the couch, snuggling with me, and our neighbors are threatening to torch our house. I've alerted the CDC that I plan on throwing open some windows this afternoon to expel some germs - be on the lookout for a sharp increase of air pollution on the weather report tonight.
I am a monster. I am past caring.
