When I was a nanny for one of my favorite families, I remember watching the progression of plague through the household, and some of the things I learned are still with me. The kids liked to share drinks with anyone who would put a cup down within reach. They would drink my water, their mum's coke or diet coke or whatever, anything was fair game. They would "share" their sickness right along with those drinks. I always got a fresh cup, and learned to keep it out of reach until they understood they couldn't share mine. I am not a real "sharer" when it comes to beverages. I'm not a germophobe, per se, but I do know that's a fine way to spread stuff around. The Evil Genius doesn't drink from my cup very often, and only when I know he's well. If he's even a little sick, I get him his own cup or simply hand mine over and get a new one. I won't let another kid share at all. I get kind of narked when parents think it's cute, their kids wandering up and having a drink from my beverage. It's not cute. It's disgusting. It's a form of germ warfare, if you ask me. Plus, it's rude. Don't get me wrong, I give kids drinks all the time...but I give them drinks, I don't share. I'll hand over a bottle of water in a heartbeat rather than let a little guy go thirsty, but I don't want it back. I'll get another, thanks.
Around this house, the usual progression is from T to Bird to...maybe me. Or from Bird to T to...maybe me. I don't always get what they have, but when I do, it sucks. I don't like being off my game anyway...but feeling unwell and having to take care of two babies (one grown, one not) while they're sick...just yuck. You see, as is the natural order of things, mum can't be sick. She can't rest, and no one takes care of her when she's flattened by whatever plague they brought home this time. She still has to feed, clothe, and (in my case, desultorily) clean house. If she does take to her bed, she'll have to make up for it later, believe me. This is why I try very hard not to get sick. I don't want the extra work. Last time I was really sick, by the time I was better I was giving serious thought to
Bird feels better, now. He's serenading his daddy with one of his trademarked concerts at top volume. T would very much like to have a little down time, but Bird is sick of me - he has me all day, every day, but he has daddy only rarely. So T is getting a concert when he'd rather lick his wounds - today was his last day at the old job, and he is already missing it. Not the stress, the long hours, or the jackassery of management, but the cars and the guys he works with. I tried to get Bird to hang with me upstairs, but he ain't havin' it.
T seems to be coughing less, although he is making up for the lack of frequency with greater drama. My goodness, the way he coughs, you'd think to see a lung come flying out at any moment!
I am hoping that what's troubling me today is allergy related, but I have a suspicion it isn't. I'd really like to go to the gym tomorrow. Missing too many days at the start makes it too easy to just quit, and I want to make it a habit. As it it, I'll have to go three day in a row to get back into my two on, one off schedule. Or I could just take two off and be back in the groove. I don't know. I'm dithering. I guess I'll have to wait and see what the glands say.
Meanwhile, I have no idea where I was going with this. I got interrupted a few times, and my train of thought is thoroughly derailed. Oh, well.