Three people sick, that is.
Yes, Wiggle Man, Hubba Hubba and I are big on sharing with our friends. So, after Wiggle Man shared his germs with Daddy, we thought we'd share them with our friends who were kind enough to let us visit them on our way home from the wedding.
This was a long awaited visit--we haven't seen them since I was preggers with Wiggle Man, and had been trying to plan a visit for awhile now, but the craziest things kept getting in the way. So, it was kind of a huge bummer when Hubba Hubba got sick pretty much as soon as we arrived here. I thought we were out of the woods because Wiggle Man was back to his wiggly self.
I forgot that grown-ups get sick, too.
Then, as Hubba Hubba rounded the corner last night, I thought we could at least enjoy one last day with our friends, with everyone healthy. Until I got up, and The Queen of Cards was sick in the bathroom.
Apparently the flu is no respecter of royalty.
This week did provide the opportunity for what I'm calling "The Greatest Achievement of My Parenting Career." (That's more impressive if you imagine it in a sports announcer sort of voice.)
Thanks to Wiggle Man's Vomit-O-Rama on the way up to the wedding, our car smelled like bad cheese, with reminiscences of the Smelly Cheese Van. No amount of scrubbing and Febreezing was taking care of this. So I was driven to do the one thing I never wanted to have to do: remove the car seat cover.
Please understand that merely adjusting the straps before installing said car seat the first time reduced me to tears and cursing. This was not a job I ever wanted to do. But Hubba Hubba was still sick, and The Queen of Cards and I needed to make a Target run. Preferably in a car that didn't reek of cheese.
It took me hours, friends, but I did it. The cover was removed, washed, dried, and put back on, all minus the (not so helpful anyway) instruction manual.
In my head, the Rocky theme played while I did a victory dance.