Home Is Where the TB Ward Is

On Monday, Famous Baby C started with the runny nose, runny eyes and generally shitty attitude. Oh wait, she always has the shitty attitude, so that wasn't unusual.

On Wednesday morning, Grand Master H woke up with a stuffed up nose. We decided to keep him home from school.

He was not happy about missing school, but I consider it a public service not to send him when he is messy and dripping.

He did, however, share this gem with me:

Me: Grand Master H, there is a new Supah Ninjas. It says the teacher has a double life.

Grand Master H: OOOOOOOH! That means he has a secret!

Me: Yes it does! [trying to hide the fact that I am stunned that he understands what double life refers to] Do you have a secret?

Grand Master H: [summoning his best shady voice] No, I don't.

Me: What is your secret?

Grand Master H: I didn't tell my teacher.

Me: No? What is your secret?

Grand Master H: I'm a Crazy Kid.

Me: You are.

Grand Master H: [in his most serious voice] Yes.

Me: Are there any other Crazy Kids?

Grand Master H: Yes.

Me: Who?

Grand Master H: [pointing to Famous Baby C] Her, right next to you.

As the day wore on, everyone continued to fall apart.

By nightfall, Grand Master H had begged for his bath and to go to bed. We read his usual bedtime story, he barely made it through the book.

About 30 minutes later the poor kid comes rushing frantically downstairs, fire engine red, raging with fever and pukes in the entry way.

Mr. Smith went and started the car so we could head to the Emergency Room. He does that.

I decided to take a less extreme tack. I took H's temp (104 at the time!) and got him to take some ibuprofen.

I got Grand Master H calmed down, put him back to bed and Mr. Smith decided to sleep in the trundle bed in H's room. Yes, H has a trundle bed, because we have a Little House on the Prairie thing going on here!

I went and tried to go to sleep in our bed. This was not easy because I am now used to having another person sleeping next to me. This, by the way, was something I never thought I would get used to. In fact, I thought that would be one of the hardest parts of being married. I figured if I ever found some poor guy silly enough to marry me, I would be able to talk him into separate bedrooms.

Things haven't exactly worked out that way, but I digress.

Around 1 am, I hear a commotion in the hall. I open the door to find H, frantic again, pacing the hall and ranting. He was obviously about to throw up. Poor Mr. Smith was still disoriented and just kind of confused.

I grab H and at least get him on the tile bathroom floor before he starts to spew.

After all of this fun, I sent Mr. Smith to sleep in our room and climbed into the Little House on the Prairie trundle bed. It was actually quite comfy. The only problem with this sleeping arrangement was Grand Master H (snoring, moaning, sneezing and generally freaking out every 30 minutes because he couldn't breathe.)

I had to wake up, talk him down and get him to go back to sleep...about 15 times.

It was a long night and a short one. Not lots of sleep, but plenty of activity and interruptions.

Tempers are short around here. At this point all four Smiths have this crap.

I guess it is time to go paint the giant red X on the front door. You know, so the neighbors don't come to the door and get infected by us and all.

I feel like I need to post some pretty photos after all this ugliness.