Confession

I don't like sick kids. I don't feel any motherly compassion when they start coughing and boogers start flowing. My first thought is usually one of wondering how I can still go through my day as planned without the little cootie monster changing my plans (I'm a make plans kind of girl). And so when I hear a child throwing up I freak out. But my kids have all already had the flu this season so we're free of any more middle-of-the night sheet changing for at least 10 more months. But no. Last night Colin started. I have changed sheets, mopped up floors, scrubbed carpets and even the wall (he's 4, and apparently when you barf in the middle of the might when you are 4 it is a rule that it must hit the wall and dry there until Mom finds it 10 hours later).

This brings to me to why I am still in my pj's with no plans to shower any time soon (why would I, I will be on my knees scrubbing again at some point right?!) when we should be at Chuck-E-Cheese running wild and wearing off energy. I can't exactly bring him to CEC where he could infect dozens of other children touching all those games and tokens, possibly even barfing in the play tunnels.... or could I? No, I have a little more compassion for other parents than that.

So instead they kids have deconstructed their room. Mattresses are off beds, sheets hung up to make walls and at one point they were building some sort of slide from the top to the bottom bunk.

At least B still wants a little downtime to read.

Thank goodness I have Bunko tonight and know I have an escape plan from this germ fest.