Bug spreads

Woke up with a bigger patch of throat distress, a goopy nostril. Germs spreading. The baby girl was absolutely miserable last night at dinner. Crying all the time. But this morning she is much more chipper. She wanted to crawl up on the bed with Daddy. Her hardworking mom, who had been up with her for quite a while, took the moment to slip into the bathroom. "Get up, Daddy," said the girl. She says this whenever I am lying down. "Read book," she said, handing me a slim volume with thick, cardboard pages. I wanted to save my voice. So I read through it slowly and softly. "Read 'nother one," she said, marching over to the bookshelf. The mom came out of the bathroom, I reported on my condition, came down here to take these pills, and blog a bit. I'll go upstairs and take a shower. The boy is up and very cranky and yelling a lot right now. Sigh. Parenting is not an elective. When I try to take a break and chill out in order to help my body fight off germs, then my wife has an even bigger burden. But I do it anyway, because I just cannot stand the thought of the infection traveling down into my lungs and giving me yet another hacking cough. I hate that and I am tired of it. August, October ... November?

He's yelling and screaming, feet are stamping loudly. I'm going to drift like a cloud into my shower.

Now picture eating during a tantrum on one side and pitiful crying on the other. My stomach has come to expect it, curled in its corner.