Every family has a week like this one where a virus spreads like brush fire. . .and then the appliances, realizing their opportunity, design a plan of mutiny. Usually the appliances gang up when one or more children is vomiting.
Marc stepped off of the bus on Tuesday with a 101 degree fever. The pediatrician generously saw us and diagnosed Marc with both the A and B strains of the flu. I started coughing on the drive home. By the next day, cough, headache and fever were my modus operandi as well. Marc on the couch. . .me in bed. Scott managing the rest of the team. Then the kitchen sink facet decided that this was a perfect time to give up the ghost.
Poor Scott. Sick wife who keeps repeating, “I feel so bad.” Sick son. Under the sink until midnight trying to install a new facet and then cleaning the kitchen from dinner dishes. Finally in bed after midnight, Will appears with that distinctive seal bark–and a fever. Into a steamy shower, followed by meds and a turn on the nebulizer. A pallet is made on the floor. Husband crashes into bed. An hour later Luke is at our bedside hotter than hades.
Two neighbors call with offers to run to the grocery store. One even shows up with a pot of soup.
Friday night. . .the dryer decides that it too is checking out of this scene.
Dylan sleeps with mom. . .on mom. . .next to mom. . .on mom. Will throws up. . .Luke comes downstairs, climbs into our bed feverish and coughing.
So this is our scene this week. Even after Scott works on it, cajoles it, strokes it lovingly, the dryer refuses to dry. The third child just threw up after a coughing fit.
Don’t tell the refrigerator. . .she is still on our side.