Mr. Yuck


Charles is one of the most germ-phobic folks I know when there are folks around coughing or sneezing or whatnot.  He's constantly walking around squirting antibacterial junk on his hands, and Dillon is one of the only five-year-old-kids I know who is able to converse pretty expertly about the many reasons you should cover your mouth when you cough or use the bathroom. 

So it kind of throws Charles off his game when people in the family are sick.  And Rose and I are, so today was a bit of a challenge.  He gets very, "don't touch that, don't breathe on me, go lie down."  And I tend to get offended and think that if he REALLY loved me, he would read my mind, and bring me breakfast in bed, and take wonderful care of me.  Of course, in that scenario the kids are playing quietly in the other room for twelve hours, which is most likely not going to happen in the real world.  Especially when Rose is sick too, and therefore, a bit grumpier and bossier than usual.   

My mom saved the day when she called out of the blue and asked if Dillon wanted to go with her to Betty Brinn Children's Museum (did he ever!), which allowed Rose and I to nap and Charles to presumably do some stuff and relax.  Somehow I felt worse when I woke up, but Rose felt better, and the family was playing a very loud game (that may have, in fact, led to my waking up when I did). 

The house looks like something exploded and blew papers, toys, mail, cds, etc. everywhere, which sort of stinks since we're having folks over for New Year's Eve (if you're in town and without plans, give a call).  Somehow it always happens when I am sick that everything gets ridiculously messy.  I am not sure  that Charles even sees it, it's one of those weird guy-vision things where he can see germs flying out of my mouth when I cough but he can't see the piles of junk you have to wade through to walk through the room.  He did go get me a chocolate-chocolate-chip muffin though, so I guess all is forgiven.

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