Sick. The little bit of sniffles I noticed while making dinner last night progressed to full on, settled in your chest, infection by the time I went to bed. This thing is nasty, and even Xtian is suffering. The only person it doesn't seem to have hit? Warren. The little asshole brought it into my home, and doesn't have the common decency to feel crappy? Not cool. We're having a talk about this as soon as I get home.
Hope we're all doing well, I'm going home to lay on my couch and whine. And continuing the theme of lazy parenting, I'm totally not picking Warren up from daycare until normal pick up time. Hell, we've already paid for it, and the only thing worse than being sick, is having to take care of someone else when you're sick.
(This just makes me think of the "man cold" video that circulated a few months ago. If you haven't seen it yet, search for it. It's pretty frickin' hilarious. But I'm too lazy to find it for you. Wouldn't want to rob you all of those feelings of empowerment that come from doing it yourself.)
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