Well, we’ve been whipped and beaten by the stomach flu this week, which is no small defeat in a household of eight. This morning I finally felt normal enough to change out of pajamas, and begin the cleanup house-wide.
Arienh and Eddie, you must know, ducked out of the family flu party by catching the bug first and then leaving the rest of us bedridden so they could par-tay in all their recuperated four and two year old glories. We’re not sure what they’ve eaten the past couple of days, but the aftermath of this negligence may be the larger part of the mess.
At any rate, after scrubbing all morning I risked the wide wide world this afternoon to grab a peppermint mocha from Starbucks, leaving a sparkling downstairs, a disastrous upstairs, and a mountain of unfolded laundry in my husband’s care. Sweet sunshine. Sweet silence. Sweet hour and 33 minutes by myself.