Ok, so I said I wouldn’t slip up and then the weekend goes by without a peep. I’m like Tim Meadows as Ike Turner humiliating Kevin Nealon on Weekend Update.
Illness still hangs over our house. The Boy seems to have recovered back to his bouncing off the walls self. There’s nothing sadder than a sick almost 6-year-old. When I came home Friday night, he was nested into his Buzz Lightyear comforter on the living room floor, looking particularly lethargic and pathetic as I asked him how he felt. He had a few sips of ginger ale at dinner and put his head on the table while the rest of us ate. I couldn’t take it anymore and brought him upstairs where he promptly fell asleep for the rest of the night.
The Wife and I both have some sort of congestion/cough thing going on that neither of us have managed to shake yet. I slept really late (i.e. 10 or 11) both Saturday and Sunday morning. The La seems to have escaped the germs swirling around the household. If it is affecting her, she doesn’t seem too much crankier than usual. It hasn’t stopped her from walking around the house with her shoes on the wrong feet wearing a zipped up pink hoodie with the hood over her head and her hands stuffed in the pockets. We’ve decided that we need to have her name embroidered on the back of the jacket gangland-style. The La, an alien gang of one.