Every last one of us in our house, except possibly the dog, and who knows about him, because he’s been licking the dirty dishes in the open dishwasher all afternoon.
I am tricking my baby into smiling so that I can jam the antibiotics down his throat. I am lugging my crying, 102-degree toddler around the house, because every time I put him down he bursts into tears and says “Mommy huggin you?”
I am hacking a deep, rattling smoker’s hack into my sweatshirt sleeve and then carrying on with all the mommying…because I can’t take a sick day from my kids.
But I can take a sick day from the blog.
Instead of laboring over a phrase, a word, a cliché, I am going to go take a shower. Put on my pajamas, go to bed.
Be well, my friends. I’m going to go blow my nose now.