Sicker Than Others Saving the Landfills, one Giant Plastic Toy At a Time

Holy hurling two year old. I need to get better at knowing what it means when a kid attaches themselves to my legs, and trust that burning up skin means fever and not just that my hands are preternaturally cold.

Three hours after the first chunks hit the couch, Thing Three is chirping happily on the floor under a blanket and I REALLY hope this is just a one off 12 hour virus that will somehow miss the other four members of the household.

Just this afternoon when my husband said to me “we have plenty of time” as I was going over the substantial list of shit we have to do before we leave for NC I said “you know what? Let’s just pretend we don’t. let’s go ahead and plan for all of us getting a virus, or me going into a tailspin, or some other nutty weird thing. let’s just get the stuff done now and then relax at the end if it turns out we have extra time on the back end, ok?”

My cross to bear, being right all the time.