And it's not for something exciting. For the past four or five weeks we have had a stomach bug running through our house. Well, running doesn't quite capture its movement. Crawling through our house like a snail would be more accurate. It hits one person at a time, lasts for 24 hours, and is gone only to return 5 or 6 days later. For the past month and a half J. and I go to bed wondering if and who we will be cleaning up after in the middle of the night. And because it is difficult to squelch my Pollyanna side even when my head is pounding and my joints all ache, the whole thing could have been much worse. We were able to focus on one person at a time. (Which is a very good thing when one owns a limited number of buckets.) All holidays and shows were missed. And, in my case, J. is home all week so I can stay in bed and not try to parent while feeling lousy.
But I'm really done with the whole thing. I declare us finished with this particular bug. There is no need for it to travel through the rest of the family. Really. And I'm sure the unaffected family members feel the same way.