Last Thursday, Medium spent 24 hours with the dreaded stomach bug of puking and “trotting”, (to the loo that is). Between making bathroom runs and trying to keep the others on task, we didn’t finish everything I wanted for the week. I hosed the house in Lysol and wiped all game controllers and remotes with anti-bac wipes trying to keep his germs from CONTAMINATING THE ENTIRE HUMAN RACE the rest of the fam.
And for a while, I thought I had won the battle. Cue Sunday morning, when my head is hurting a little and I’m cold. By Sunday night I’m up to 102.7 fever and feel like my skull is going to crack open. Monday I haven’t made the detailed list of the week’s lesson, so the boys get to paint while I try to get organized. Tuesday Small is fevering along with me, and gets Medium’s stomach bug. My throat forms a uni-tonsil and by Wednesday things aren’t looking up as Husband departs the germfest for a business trip in south Texas. My parents become the light at the end of the tunnel when they “sub” for the day, with my dad taking on Medium and my mom snuggling on the couch with Small, listening to him read and helping with his spelling. Mom gives the boys a cooking lesson on how to hand-bread chicken strips, and I manage to cram one down my almost impassable throat, just because.
Thursday I start antibiotics for strep throat, and decide to clean my bathroom at ten at night. And by “decide” I mean I walked into my bedroom where three little boys were watching cartoons on my bed, and I ask, “Why do I hear water running?” Small bolts from the bed into my bathroom and sheepishly returns saying he got my floor a little wet.
UNDERSTATEMENT I shout thy name.
In a seemingly innocent act, he plugged the sink to wash something, got distracted, and left. The water, sensing that I was sick and home alone while Hubster lounged worked in the warm Texas sun, only flooded my side of the vanity, filling my makeup bag, basket of hair products, and the drawer of various hair electronics. Hubster’s side stayed inexplicably dry. INEXPLICABLY DRY!!!! What is that about? Two hours later, I walk into my closet only to hear the dreaded ‘squish’ of wet carpet. Apparently, the water went under the bathroom wall into my closet. With an internal ROAR and an external sigh, I turn on a space heater and a fan full blast, and crash into my crowded bed, ignoring the already musty smell permeating the air.
So, yeah. Last week wasn’t the greatest, but looking back, it wasn’t a complete failure either. The boys did schoolwork every day, and even though their chores slipped through the cracks, big whoop. We’re back on track today. Husband made it home Saturday afternoon with me still feeling cruddy, but thankful that I had a husband and didn’t have to live the single mom life every day. God is good, and so are Sunday afternoon naps.
