I think I am going to file a complaint with the Labor Union. I woke up yesterday with a searing sore throat, swollen lymph glands and achy body, exactly the same symptoms that my loving husband had for three weeks. During those three weeks, he missed about 4 days of work, that was how miserable he was. He spent much of that time napping in various parts of the house: living room couch, family room couch, bed, bathtub. The rest of the time, he mostly sat on the couch groaning from the discomfort, while I futilely tried to keep the kids away from him.
Now the sweetheart has apparently infected yours truly. Not only am I not getting a sick day today, but I also get the sweet privilege of attending to my two sick children, who were also apparently infected. Danny seemed really lethargic and sick this morning, so I kept him home from school, but he is now feeling better, as his energy is returned in full force. So, he is spending much of his time entertaining himself by tormenting his poor sick sister.
Ahh, the joys of motherhood. I would so love to just veg on the couch with all 6 hours of the A&E version of Pride and Prejudice (this used to be my treatment of choice when I was sick before I had kids and actually did get sick days) and a vanilla shake to cool my aching throat. Instead, I am refereeing two crabby kids and trying to muster the energy to keep them entertained without the help of an electronic device. All the while, I am envying my husband who is fully recovered and back at work where he gets an hour off for lunch and where I doubt he is ever called upon to shout at a co-worker, "Hey, quit smothering your sister in your blanket!!! Be nice!"
Well, I better go take my next dosage of decongestant and see what the kids are up to. It is ominously quiet in the family room, which never bodes well.