NO! Go away! I have a flight to catch!
When you have children it seems that not only are you doomed to be ridden with illness and disease at frequent and regular intervals, but you are also compelled to suffer doubly long as the lurgy lingers and passes through the household cackling maniacally. First the kids succumb one by one and turn into unpleasant little sprites to be cared for and tended to lovingly, and then just as both children are back on their feet using you as a climbing frame and with energy levels recharged to turbo, and you dare to pause to think that you may have miraculously escaped the viral toll it's time for doting parents to lose all patience and wish they could crawl into bed, shut themselves in a darkened room and just let the kids blissfully create havoc out of sight while the sickness continues on its way.
This has not been a good week.
I really hope I can drink my Theraflu, shut my eyes and wake up full of sunbeams in the morning. Instead I have a dread sense of an impending repeat of the kick off of our last trip to England. Summer 2009, I distinctly remember having a cold mere days before the flight that time too, fending it off just before boarding the plane and then spending the first days of our holiday in Devon relapsing into a swine flu rollercoaster with poor little Baby Bea faring the worst and being treated to the benefits of the NHS home visit.
Our flight is on Wednesday. I'm really looking forward to seeing mum and dad, giving them big hugs and delivering two fantastic rambunctious grandkids to them for a fun filled six weeks in England. We don't need to be sick any more thank you.
Oh, here's a snippet that I wanted to relay about Bea. Like Sam, she loves apples. We cut them up for her and she goes to town eating all the juicy flesh and nibbling right up to the peel. She discards the green rinds on the floor and tries to feed them to Quince. Bad Bea. So, I thought I'd be smart and avoid having to pick slobbered on apple pieces up off the floor by peeling the fruit for her first. I gave her some nice slices of apple, no peel. She grinned and giggled, and carefully set to work taking a bite or two of each. She nibbled out a thin strip of apple flesh and tossed it onto the floor as usual.
*sigh*
****
NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
As I was writing this Sam erupted and is now very poorly in bed having just been sick. I don't believe this.
This has not been a good week.
I really hope I can drink my Theraflu, shut my eyes and wake up full of sunbeams in the morning. Instead I have a dread sense of an impending repeat of the kick off of our last trip to England. Summer 2009, I distinctly remember having a cold mere days before the flight that time too, fending it off just before boarding the plane and then spending the first days of our holiday in Devon relapsing into a swine flu rollercoaster with poor little Baby Bea faring the worst and being treated to the benefits of the NHS home visit.
Our flight is on Wednesday. I'm really looking forward to seeing mum and dad, giving them big hugs and delivering two fantastic rambunctious grandkids to them for a fun filled six weeks in England. We don't need to be sick any more thank you.
Oh, here's a snippet that I wanted to relay about Bea. Like Sam, she loves apples. We cut them up for her and she goes to town eating all the juicy flesh and nibbling right up to the peel. She discards the green rinds on the floor and tries to feed them to Quince. Bad Bea. So, I thought I'd be smart and avoid having to pick slobbered on apple pieces up off the floor by peeling the fruit for her first. I gave her some nice slices of apple, no peel. She grinned and giggled, and carefully set to work taking a bite or two of each. She nibbled out a thin strip of apple flesh and tossed it onto the floor as usual.
*sigh*
****
NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
As I was writing this Sam erupted and is now very poorly in bed having just been sick. I don't believe this.