Kent has been gone for about 5 days now, and as much as I have enjoyed having all the hot water to myself, I’m looking forward to him getting home.
The kids and I have all been sick with another stomach bug, so that’s been divine. Here’s how a sickness at our house usually progresses.
Peppers gets sick and stops eating all of the foods he will normally eat. And by all, I mean both. I get out the wet vac.
Salty gets sick, whines constantly, and turns devilish and defiant. My patience lasts at most 16 hours before I go berserk, “Stop whining! You can’t whine every minute of every hour. You MUST give it a rest at some point. Why are you being so naughty?”
Fluffy gets sick and cries pitiously that her stomach hurts.
Then I get sick, and begin to feel terrible remorse for not being more understanding with Salty. “Oh man, this stomach ache is for real, and it just never lets up. I’m so, so sorry, my little Salty-bear. I had no idea it hurt this much. I just figured you were a total drama queen taking malevolent delight in annoying me. How could I have guessed you were actually in pain? Let’s snuggle.”
Kent doesn’t get sick but demands, “Everybody stop whining because you’re making your mother whine, and I can’t take it anymore.”
Conversation that just took place while I was typing this (after seeing a family dragging a kite moronically along their driveway while we were out for a walk).
Fluffy: Can you get out my kite?
Me: No. There’s no wind. I’m not getting out your kite today. I told you we’ll do it another day when it’s windy.
Salty: DON’T TELL FLUFFY NO!
Peppers: I’m gonna throw Mommy in the dungeon so she won’t be so mean.