We're a mixed-bag of viruses over here. Eve has been stuffy and her eyes "are pretending to be waterfalls", Angus has the voice of one of Hell's lesser demons. He went to school this morning, and I picked him up at noon for an orthodontist appointment - when the receptionist heard him talk she suggested I not bring him back. I had a sore throat and bad sinuses on Tuesday morning, which suddenly morphed into the Barfing Plague on Tuesday afternoon. And my husband has somehow been dodging among the large-droplet-contagion without getting wet so far. He did have to put my socks on this morning so I could get Angus to the orthodontist, since I wrenched my back muscles so badly in the process of turning my gastrointestinal system inside-out that I could hardly move. Turns out it's almost as hard to put on someone else's socks as it is to put on someone else's glasses (if you've tried, you'll know what I mean). "What the hell are you doing? You can't just bunch them around my ankles, I'll never fit them in my boots. Okay, DON'T PULL THEM UP SO FAR, you're strangling my feet! Don't you WEAR socks? You SUCK at this!"
Yes, I am always exactly that gracious a patient.
As a result of all the germs and fatigue and shit, I haven't been able to get out to the CPAP place to get replacement filters for my machine, I haven't been able to feed my children and I haven't written anything OR read anything all week. All I've done is watch multiple, out-of-order episodes of Bones on Netflix, while undergoing this weird phenomenon that often takes place when I'm sick, whereby I develop acute feelings of loyalty and affection for a particular show that got me through some rough hours. "I have REALLY been undervaluing this show - the subtlety and lyricism! The gentle humour! The rendering of existential despair as it pertains to a traditional humanist value system! And wow, David Boreanaz has really maintained an admirable set of abs to this point in the series." I'm finding it a little hard to move on.
While I regain my strength, have a few pictures of Eve celebrating her 11th birthday and Matt's Nana's 91st (I baked the cake but forgot to buy candles, and I had a one but not a nine, so I had to turn a six upside-down). Eve was born one week before Nana's eightieth birthday, so we've always been able to figure out easily how old Nana is (Eve Plus Eighty.)
I vote yes.