House Of Pestilence And Woe

It has been a rough 48+ hours at Chez Laird and I am praying the worst is over. Actually, I know the worst is over because John and I are no longer violently ill and simply in the recovery period. I still don't know what happened, really. John had been limping along with a cold throughout the week, but the rest of us were perfectly healthy until 4:33 p.m. on Friday when the awfulness caught me off-guard as I was playing outside with the kids. The only reason I know what time it was is because we were waiting for John to get back home and I was doing the checking-my-watch-every-two-minutes routine to see if maybe 10 minutes had passed from the last time I had glanced down.

The nastiness hit the ground with an all-out sprint from that time on and went through me, then Gracie, then John, then Ainsley, then...mostly avoided Johnny and Lizzy. So far, those two have only had The Fever and another mild issue (please, PLEASE thank me for sparing you gory details).

What was the worst part? Both parents being simultaneously knocked out and still having to parent. We so wished we could have called someone to help, but we so did not wish our germs upon anyone. What did we do? Well, I'm pretty sure the kidlets got about 8 hours of television on Saturday and 4+ today. No guilt and I think I can handle it if they don't go Ivy because of the brain cells they lost this weekend. We had no choice, although if I have to listen to the shrill voices on "Fireman Sam" again I may run away.

I only got a couple pics from the weekend:

We had to get some fresh air and A just couldn't handle being on the couch inside. Poor thing. Our graffiti on the back porch looks fab. We are so classy.

This doesn't quite represent John's misery unless you know him, but the guy always smiles. Shortly after this I sent him inside and up to bed.

Lizzy and Johnny - you are not allowed to get this full-on. I will feed you ice-cream and lollipops for dinner if you stay in the clear. Capiche?