Friday, November 7, 2014

Happy Friday

Both my kids are home sick today.

Both of them.

They have a sick day, I have a sick day. It's not so bad. Until I'm the one that's sick. So I've been drinking my AirBorne and taking my Vitamin C and hoping and praying that The Sick passes over me and my incredibly unyielding immune system.

Last night, my son got sick. Like got sick. All over my bedroom floor. And so I directed him to the toilet before I went to clean it up. And on my way back through, it had spread. Yeah. Spread. And I didn't know that it had spread. And I stepped in it.

With my Bare. Freaking. Foot.

No, no, no, no, no! I wanted to scream. But it was quiet in the house and who wants a mother who is going to pieces on the floor in the middle of sick and blankets and pillows and paper towels and Clorox and Fabuloso anyway? Especially when your bowing your head over a toilet?

So I refrained from screaming and wiped my foot off with the lavendar-scented Fabuloso, which isn't recommended for skin. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I'd already been contaminated anyway.

So then I hauled all the sheets and blankets (he was sleeping on a little pallet in my room just in case he got sick) that had sick all over them to the laundry room, cleaned the toilet with Clorox, and lifted my hands to my face to shove my bangs out of the way.

And encountered wet. Wet from my hands transferred to my face.

Near my mouth.

Oh, lord, lord, lord, lord, lord, PLEASE do not let that have been sick that the Clorox didn't get off. 

And I looked down at my hands and inspected them very carefully. And there was a little piece of something, a foreign object on my finger. It looked like sick. I closed my eyes and bit my lips in and held back dramatic tears of tragedy and crisis, and stuck my hands under the burning hot water to wash them off. The injustice of it all, plus the fact that there was no one around to witness the bravery I had just demonstrated, was getting to me.

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Today, with two sick babies, I'm eyeing the door and realizing with certainty that there is no way out.

We have been infiltrated. We are contaminated.

I am a damsel in distress, with no one to rescue her from this desolation.

Happy Friday, y'all.

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