So the chest/head/stomach/mind/body/soul bug that has been going around finally caught up to me. I was overdue. I had been around people that had it, I had been around my kids that had it, etc., everybody knows that drill. Eventually your time comes.
That is not the terrible part. The terrible part is I wish BOTH of my kids were sick, when I was sick. While Luke and I wanted to sit and veg out on the couch, Ave was her normal, energetic self (which on a typical day can be cute, but when you are hacking up a lung, it is as cute as a fart in church). She wanted to drag all her baby dolls out, and she has a lot (I tried to count them one day and I swear they multiplied). Of course when she was done with one, she did not put the other away. On a normal healthy day, I would have held my ground and made her put her toys away...not today, she had free reign.
While Luke's diet consisted of toast, juice and Popsicles, Avery decided she wanted eggs...and Lipton soup...and French toast...basically anything that required me to stand or get up a lot. She also wanted to start about 10 different movies (please note I didn't say watch, but start movies). Finally she settled on Despicable Me 2, and we watched it, no joke, at least six times over a two-day span. Luke was out of it, so he did not care, but me, I was just in it enough to want to actually dislike Steve Carrell (and who dislikes him?).
Had Ave been as laid up as Luke and I, we could have all climbed into bed and slept, it almost would have been Rockwell-esque, minus all the coughing and sniffling of course. So yes, I actually wish my daughter had been sick this last weekend.
That said, she is probably going to get sick next weekend and then pass it back to Luke...then to me...then to her...then to...
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