Long ago I was a history buff. I swallowed that stuff whole. Kings, politicians, battles, religion, science, inventors, customs, clothes. People intrigue me. It’s why I took psychology and sociology classes. I remember reading they painted something on the doors to keep the plague away. I will probably give in to that urgent need-to-know soon enough. But I know I need to paint it on my door.
Or maybe it’s too late.
Evan has been “sickish” since Sunday. Sunday he wasn’t sick; he was just off. And then Monday he woke up with a fever. And so the awesome began. And this year everything Evan has caught, he has shared with Sean and Aidan, who used to say, “No, thank you, dear brother; our immune systems came from our mother; we will sit and watch movies with you.”
So all the boys have been sick since Wednesday, which really doesn’t seem like a long time. Unless you have three children who are sick and you were the one home taking care of them. Then that is like a month. Add that I have allergies. (They’re allergies, damnit! I will not be sick!) And my bed becomes infested with sick children two hours after I go to bed. Or less.
Last night the boys took turns. First Aidan came to bed with me. Then an hour later, Evan joined me in bed and decided to do his impression of a barnacle. Then an hour later Sean came into bed with me. Then an hour later Evan needed water. An hour after that Sean and Aidan needed water. Aidan also needed a binkie and his mama shirt. A half an hour later Aidan was awake and needed music. Then an hour later Evan asked for cough medicine. (About this time I was contemplating coma medicine. I’m not sure for who.) Then an hour later Sean needed more water. Finally I decided I had enough of being squished and woken up and could get up. I felt like I was hit by a truck.
So there has to be an upside. What with the sickness and lack of school and the schoolwork piling up/ Well, at least my house is clean because I have time to clean it and the boys are too tired to mess it up.
