Killer Germs of Death

Lily just walked up to me.

She spent her afternoon nap coughing up her lungs in her bed, and she apparently coughed so hard she threw up a little.

"Mom," she began.

"Yes?"

"I wanna throw up 'gain."

I shook my head.

"No, throwing up isn't good!"

"But I want to bad! It's my favorite!"

Erm...

Only a three-year-old would think throwing up super fun. I only hope I don't have a bulimic on my hands. She's already skinny enough. She doesn't need to lose any more body fat. She's already NOT on any charts. Except for height. She's like a human string bean.

It seems so wrong and sad for a child to be sick in the summer. Sheesh, germs...You already dominate the cold seasons. Leave this one alone, for pity's sake.

Just breaks the heart...especially since Josh has been coughing so hard his eyes are blood-shot. Not like he's tired (which he is), but like he coughed so hard he burst the poor little veins in his eyeballs.

I was talking to my visiting teachers about this whole thing, when a thought struck me.

"Well, I suppose it's better than medieval times. Back then, when summer hit, that's when the plague came out. Ha ha!"

My visiting teachers laughed awkwardly, which I only half-noticed because my brain traveled back in time, and I was envisioning Henry the VIII sailing down the Thames in his boat to escape the rat-ridden city crammed full of dead and dying people to spend the summer in his fancy summer castle down south. He was awesome. The most awesomely awesome British monarch of all times. He would have liked my joke.

Jeremy remarked that he hoped that Leah doesn't get sick.

I don't think she will. She's too cranky for that nonsense.

She's like, "Don't EVEN, germs. I'll scream you out of my body!" And then she'll squirm, and flail, more of a ball of arms and legs than a baby. I have high hopes for her. She's not going to take crap from anybody. Those germs don't stand a chance. That's Leah. The most awesomely awesome baby ever. She would have liked my joke too, but she was unconscious at the time. During most of the visit, she drooled incessantly on my shoulder, and then fell asleep, like a soggy bag of cranky flour.

It seems all I do these days is hold little people. If it's not Leah, it's one of the others (except Josh....he's too gangly and awkward to sit on my lap). Eden crawled into my lap a while ago, wanting love. I did "This Little Piggy" on her toes, and finally had to put her down when she insisted on putting her foot up my nose when I got tired of her very needy, mental disorder-ridden Piggies (Just think about those piggies and what they are doing...This little piggy had a shopping addiction, this little piggy had agoraphobia, this piggy was borderline cannibalistic, this little piggy had anorexia, and THIS little piggy had tourettes...).

Lily just came back.

"Mom, I want some bread."

"I already gave you some. Go give Josh and Eva hugs and kisses."

"No," she glared.

"Then go sit on Josh's head."

She brightened.

"Okay!"

I think she'd be friends with Henry VIII, too.