Running out of coherent steam...

Day three of thirty will be a quickie. Two thirds of the Woo are sick. A little Woo and the female Woo. Mr. M has had the nose runs for the past few days, thought it was on its way out but looks like something a little more sinister has come on board. Back swine! Back! Mr. M's combined naps added up to 5 hours today and he just crashed into a coma a few minutes ago.

I'm close behind. Took two Benadryl to dry up the fluids. Yes. I'm blogging about fluids. It's day three people.

I started careening downward about 6pm or so, making nonsense remarks at open play time at Bubbles Academy (it's a real place), like "Misho, no tongue when kissing that baby." Things that cause other parents to carefully guide their children into an accordian tunnel to hide. Then I came home and started putzing around the house, putting things where they don't belong, shoes in the fridgerator, books on the bookshelf (that rarely happens in this house), clothes on the dogs. When I get sick I act like I'm drunk at a college fiesta; finding lame things hilarious (anyone remember the night I replayed the Logical Song by Supertramp over and over at least a 100 times? Good times), and always end up making out with someone by the end of the evening. I have two dogs and my husband to choose from. All are scared.

Achoo!

Here's a cute pic from the past to get us through the night.
Dog and baby. A love story.