It Starts With a Tickle

For the past two weeks Max has had a brutal cough. No runny nose to speak of, no fever, no sneezing... just a horrible horrible cough. Then one day, Rob started coughing so hard I thought I caught a glimpse of intestines hanging out of his throat. Gross, I know. I shivered with disgust every time I heard this emphysema-like, chest-rattling, vomit-inducing cough. Finally it seemed that Max was on the mend. I no longer heard him coughing at night in bed and it seemed like he was overcoming this chest cold. Rob, on the other hand kept going strong. A few days ago I felt a tickle at the back of my throat. Oh, wonderful I said to myself. Here we go. I am currently in the midst of a horrendous chest cold that has me hacking with every breath I take. For two nights I have been in between light sleep and mid-cough. My brow is sweaty. My stomach is nauseous. My kids are aggravating me. Oh wait, that's normal... heh heh. I'm (violins, please) really, really sick, and I'm really, really cranky. I keep doing my normal daily stuff; making beds, fixing meals, cleaning up dishes and clothes and sticky faces. I just happen to be doing these normal daily things in a thick fog. I suppose somedays having a regular old day job would be nice. I could call in sick, stay in bed and eat soup. But alas, I'm a mommy and those days don't exist anymore. Ok, I'll stop with the poor-me routine and go get some DayQuil. Ok, a lot of DayQuil.