I guess it had to happen, since just about everyone we’ve seen in the past week has had it. Rowan and I caught the sore throat/cough/yuckiness. Which wouldn’t suck quite so much if Rowan and I didn’t tend to hold on to colds forever and we weren’t leaving for Florida on Wednesday, where we hope to see these guys.
Godiva had to go to the vet this week – details would fall into the category of too much information, I’m afraid. The end result is that he’s on antibiotics and has to wear a cone on his head. He seems quite unhappy with the affront to his dignity. He keeps walking into things and looking at me as if to ask why I am punishing him.
I think I should probably climb into bed for a day or two, but Dagny’s having another unschooler invasion this weekend (the kitchen’s stocked), Sunday we’ll decorate eggs, Monday we’ll make Hamentashen with Grandma Carolyn (we’ll see if she’ll go for the idea of dying them green…), Tuesday’s ice skating, and Wednesday we’re off to see Mickey Mouse. So I guess I’ll just do my best not to breathe on anyone.