Illin' In Philly

Yo Yo Yo. Mom in da house...
Uh, all month long. I can't get out.
If it's not the boy, it's me.
He started off 2005 with an ear infection, I acquired strep throat last week, and now he's contracted some sort of stomach thing that's made him expunge every last drop of everything from both ends. Pleasant, huh? I'm drinking tons of water now, just in case it happens to me too.

During my time of respite, protected by the poofy, synthetic-y feel of a faux down comforter (purchased no doubt from Kmart or some other purveyor of fine home furnishings), I managed to watch almost all of Live Aid and found solace in cherry jello and hominy grits.

Apparently, when you recover from illness, the gods of mockery send down another for you to dodge by putting it in your child. So we're back on major doses of hand sanitizer and then following up later on in the evening with A&D ointment on the hands to soothe the cracking skin on the knuckles.

I feel like a boxer.
"Down goes Fraser!!!"