A Botched Day

Daniel was kind enough to pass his stomach bug along to both parents. Starting with Rob on Sunday night and moving via hurricane force winds to  me on Monday evening, when I inconveniently drove water polo carpool to Aurora. After forcing a hit and run at the bathroom at Target, the nausea's second wave rolled me over in the high school parking lot. Fortunately, I moved quickly enough to avoid damaging Rob's car, but my sandals took a hit. The kids were already at the pool and avoided both viewing and contagion.

After sleeping most of Tuesday away, I rallied to do some laundry, discovering a million shreds of tissue paper in the dryer, along with candy wrappers, loose coins and sunflower seeds. Daniel's pants are booby traps.  I should know by now to purge his pockets prior to loading the wash. He also loads his room with surprises; oranges roll out from under the pillow, granola bars hide under the dresser, and the omnipresent sunflower seeds hop out of the holes in the laundry basket. One day, I tell myself, I will miss this.

The kids were flustered by the lack of snacks and dinner, the cats disgruntled because I ran out of wet food, and Rob unsettled because I overpaid the junk removal men when they came to take away the old swing set. "Is there a new version coming to take its place?" asked one of the young guys. "No!" I responded, "the kids have outgrown it all," and had to withdraw, weepy and sentimental.

So generally a botched day, but now magically disappearing in our rear-view mirror. The only constant in life - change - can be the best possible news when dealing with a stomach bug. Not so easy to digest when removing the children's swing set, but impossible to resist in any case.