Lick Your Brother

This is my strategy for dealing with sickness.

My first strategy was to quarantine anyone who had the first signs of sickness. The problem with that is they are contagious at least 12 hours before the signs come along. During those 12 hours, my boys are wrestling, sharing cups, hopefully not spitting on each other, but I wouldn't put that out of the realm of possibilities. So, they all share germs when the germs are off my radar. This means that one person begins a sickness while the others have incubating germs. This means that one boy is sick one week, then the next boy gets sick the next week, and the third boy is quick on his heels. This means three continuous weeks of sickos at my house.

So, now I'm not even going to try to keep it from the other boys. I'm going to have the sick one drink in a cup, encouraging backwash (like that needs encouraging). Pass the cup to your brother please. Now the other brother. Done. Now we can get through the sickness in two weeks or less.

Here are other thoughts in the realm of sicknesses:

I love thermometers. D.J. has a tendency to tell me he's sick 3 out of 5 school mornings. "Oh, dear. . . let's check your temperature then. . . . . . 98.0. . . . . not sick. . . . get dressed and go to school." Irrefutable evidence.

In the realm of thermometers: Just to have a little fun, I sometimes tell the boys that I used to use this thermometer with them rectally and it's the only one I have now to take their temperature. I wonder why my boys think potty talk is funny? I am wicked.

James was so happy the night I told him he could come out of his room the next morning that when he woke up he opened the door and said, "Say hello to me!"

I will never home school. I cannot handle the workload that comes home when the boys have missed a day of school. I do not know how teachers get 20 or more kids to do school work. It's no wonder our school has supplied the teachers with a sound system in each classroom and microphones to hang around their necks.

Done with the sick rant. . . . . I hope.