Sickie-Poo

We are all sick.

Remember that Gymboree class I mentioned a few days ago? Yeah well, Little Man caught a Gymboree germ.

Two days later, the germ travelled to me.

Two days after that, Husband caught it.

We're now all in the throes of a nasty summer cold. There are boxes of tissues in every room, a fridge stocked full of gatorade and orange juice, a bottle of thick pink antibiotic in the cupboard and boxes of decongestant in the bathroom.

The nights are restless because none of us can breath, but that does make for some really good family snuggle naps on the couch in the late afternoon.

The days are long because we're not getting outside much--we don't want to infect the general population. But it means we get to have movie marathons and spend hours reading surrounded by fluffy pillows and snuggle blankets.

Being stopped up means is no fun, but sneezing is a really silly sound and makes Little Man laugh every time.

There's even an up side to being a sickie-poo.