This house should just be tented and burned to the ground. Everyone but moi is sick as a dog. Again. For the umpteenth time this year. This particular round we should simply contain here before it gets out and reaches the masses thus creating the next great Plague. It is brutal with a capital B.
Oh, and burn down that infernal jumpy house that my kid drug it home from just to be safe, too. One cannot clean gigantic inflatable bounce houses sufficiently enough to eradicate this influenza. Inflatable Wonderland must die.
Being sick is not that interesting. However, what is interesting is that I seem to be the only person in this family that does not go full throttle “Boy in a Bubble” every time a germ floats in on a light breeze. Seriously, it is exhausting.
No one is sleeping, everyone needs medicine and refuses it (even my husband), there are tissues and snot towels everywhere, people are grumpy, whining is the new normal tone of voice, and here I am…wondering if I am just a freak enigma that gets sick (much) less often or these two need a full work-up from a immunologist stat. Like yesterday.
Such is the life of a mom. Though I do have to say that I feel a bit like Cinderella running around trying to cater to the evil step-family’s bells for their incessant needs. And there is not even the promise of a ball at the end of this rainbow. My “prince” looks like death warmed over right now as opposed to being particularly “charming”.
I mean, I will totally make them wear those weird little masks everywhere from now on. Or just stuff Jp in a hamster ball. They have to make those, right? If they make crazy fetish dolls for people that are too anxious to meet real girls…then they have to make hamster balls for parents that think that they might just snap and end up on the The Lifetime Movie Channel if this house gets viral one more freaking time this year.
At least you can all say that you knew me ‘back when’ before I was famous. *winks*
I'm just living minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day.