Just put a big, red "X" on our door...

     As the second wave of contagion obliterated my household this weekend, I began to wonder, would we actually make it out alive?  What or Who had I/We pissed off?  And What or Who did I need to kill to set this right?  Because that was the level of my desperation,  folks. I was at Kill Level 3.

     What was supposed to have been a sweet, little snow day turned into a 4-wheel drive trip to the pediatrician for a diagnosis of pink-eye with a side order of flu.  Eff, eff, eff, eff, eff, eff, EFFFFFF!  Wait... I don't feel so good, either.  Damn it.

     Sass Monkey went down so hard the couch has a permanent sweat stain in the shape of a miserable little super hero on its cushions.  And to put the cherry on top of his not-so-fun sundae,  his charming baby sister (who, by this time was totally put out by the fact that brother bear wouldn't play with her) performed a waddle-by-whacking, and bruised up his one working eye with a plastic play phone while he lay immobilized by disease.

     Mommy and Sass ended up spending most of the weekend together on the couch while Daddy dutifully and masterfully corralled the screeching heathen beast (a.k.a Sprinkles).  She had lost her mind, you see, because her personal wrestling partner wasn't capable of anything more than sitting up to sip water and whining.  What a fun-suck, right?  Daddy really took one for the team.  When Sass would have intermittent periods of activity due to the Ibuprofen lie (You know... they feel better but aren't better?) it was as if he was trying to make up for lost time, wreaking havoc and getting out all the toys with small parts before petering out and joining me back on the "Stinky Couch".  You see, he felt well enough to move but was cranky enough to make Daddy's eye twitch.

All in all, it was a great time.  I love effing flu season.  And now it's Daddy's turn to succumb, poor guy.

     Btw, have you ever tried to put eye drops in a 3 year old's eye?  Had him begging for mercy like we'd put thumbscrews on him!  I have used them before (I am no stranger to the Nasty Eye.) and I know they don't hurt but the cold droppy sensation just sent him right on over the edge.  We almost have to peel him off the ceiling when we go to get the drops out of the cubbard and no amount of bargaining, begging, or pleading makes it go any smoother.  I will say that Daddy has better luck with him than I do, but then, Daddy also has more patience.  And empathy.  And is nicer.  Basically, he is just a better parent.

     Any tips (other than hog-tying) for getting drops into their eyes with the minimum of flailing and wailing?  Really... we are desperate here.  Cookies aren't working because he doesn't want to eat so their goes my back up plan....