I mean.
January is casually flipping me a bird at every turn. This week alone, a shattered glass in the kitchen sent shrapnel in a thousand directions, including but not limited to the soles of my daughter's feet. She threw up (again!) on Monday morning and now, my son's turn. He began throwing up not long ago and while his bowels are empty, he has an unfortunate trait of dry heaving until he cannot physically bear to move. It is going to be a long night for him...he looked at me and quietly said "whyyyyyy".
I don't know, G.
I tried to laugh about it or, find the humor. But I find I've been more of a coach tonight. You're going to get through it. You can run to the toilet! Go, go, go, I am with you every step of the way! You got this. It sucks, but, you are being such a champ.
Meanwhile I am bleaching like a lunatic, washing hands until raw and staying home tomorrow to recover. I hope. One night, done night...and please park it here.
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