Moms and sick days just don't mix.
Today, I woke up with one eye crusted shut and the other watering like a faucet, my head was cotton stuffed and no amount of sniffling could compensate for the number of Kleenex tissues I went through before finally reconciling myself to the awful realization that I had to get out of bed. I padded to the bathroom to pry open my crusty eye and examine the damage. "It's pink eye," I smartly informed myself, clearing my raw, sore throat, "Omigosh, I have pink eye. Ew."
And then I told Clarke that I had pink eye.
And then I told Brock I had pink eye.
And then I told Brock I had pink eye.
Armed with a bottle of Lysol in one hand and a bleach wipe in the other, I went from room to room dousing my little castle from floor to ceiling. Then, I dragged my sorry, sniffling, sneezing self to the shower and stood there under the pelting, warm water, while attempting to collect the thoughts swimming around in my fuzzy brain.
"Pink eye is only for little humans, right?"
"Web MD said it should only last for 3-5 days."
"Oh, look, I'm out of shampoo."
"Ew. Pink eye."
One coughing fit and a cozy robe later, I stood before the mirror and wiped away the steam. Staring back at me was two, blue eyes, neither of which was pink. Or red, for that matter.
So, not pink eye???? Whew! Oops!
But, darned if I don't have the mother of completely miserable and defeating colds.
I think I need a nap. And maybe some takeout.
But since moms and sick days are kind of like oil and water, I'll just have to tough this one out.
But since moms and sick days are kind of like oil and water, I'll just have to tough this one out.
