Pick off the sick ones

This last week was not the best when it comes to health. My wife and I were both knocked out by what appeared to be a 24 hour bug. Then after a day and a half of being somewhat better, I was again laid low. Against my wishes, various grossness began shooting out opposite ends. Winter stomach flu. It plain sucked. I vote strongly against it.

My children used this week to prove they can be unfeeling goblins who will tear us apart if it pleases them.

The day both Lisa and I were down was the worst. Basically, we had to take turns trying to rest while the other took a feeble stand against Phoebe and Zoe. I will tell you that changing diapers becomes more unpleasant when you are on the verge of barfing. And that’s not even one of the verbal demands. Food still gets demanded. They continue to fuss when they aren’t getting their way. You still need to keep them occupied. They still want to put stickers on your head. All this must happen while you are wishing you could dig a little burrow in the ground and hide in it. But we love them and no one is going to do these jobs for us. So you plaster on a smile and do your best between frantic runs to the bathroom. The whole time you are also praying to any god who will listen that this plague does not get passed on to the kids.

When Lisa was better and I was still sick, I then had to contend with the solo child herding when mommy had work. Now, one of my daddy functions tends to be as a couch/jungle gym. This is another task that is preferable when you are not a barf machine. Guess who doesn’t give a shit? That’s right, the small children! So the queasy stomach gets stepped on and the glasses get poked at. Sometimes you even take an accidental knee to the groin (which REALLY doesn’t help you feel better) while you are being told to laugh like Bert and Ernie.

It probably goes without saying, but I will anyone. During all this, the cat was no help. Jerk.

So at this point, it seems that recovery is mostly complete. No more barfs or horrid poops. No one is running a temperature. I’m still feeling a little run down, but that just come with the territory. And thankfully neither of the girls seem to have caught anything. But now, I think my wife and I need to come up with a contingency plan. I can’t shake this feeling that Phoebe and Zoe were being merciful. The next time we become this ill could spell our doom if not prepared. So we must prepare to fight off not only the sickness, but also the hyenas.

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