Grayson officially has the yuck that poor Abby just can't shake. They seem to be passing the bug baton back and forth since Halloween. Pediatrician keeps calling it a virus therefore no antibiotics ergo we are at home fighting it with boiled toothbrushes, Clorox wipes, covered sneezes, and more OJ than the Florida Keys.
Having them huddled under covers at home reminds me of the days I would come home sick from living off of Egg Drop soup and Arizona tea in college. I'd drop my dirty laundry in a heap on the floor, curl up in blankets filled with years of lofty dreams and girlhood memories and hunker down in my twin bed for hours.
I can remember waking up not knowing what day it was or even what state it was until hearing my grandparents' voices somewhere down the hall. My grandfather carrying on a soliloquy about healthcare benefits and my grandmother daydreaming about Crystal Falls Michigan with a hot mug of coffee in her lap.
I'd resist the urge to get up and feed my growling stomach in lieu of another hour or two of free fall napping. Nowhere to be, nobody to answer to, and nothing in store.
Those "Creature Comfort" days are behind me now but there's something comforting knowing a new chapter of sick days are ahead.
It's not fun seeing the kids unwell but it is good to know they can hunker down under their covers that smell like shampoo, hear me typing away on the keyboard and fall back to sleep as long as they want just because they can.
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