Late Friday morning, the school nurse called to let me know that the Girl was in her office, complaining of a headache and stomach ache. And she had a fever. (My sweet baby has a long and storied history with the nurse’s office, so a fever got my attention more than the other symptoms would have on their own.)
I brought her home, tucked her under a blanket, gave her some Motrin, and complied with all one thousand requests for snuggling.
Loop all of that and hit play, and you’ve got a good picture of the last couple of days. Poor girl.
It’s pretty much my fault, though, since last week I thought, “Hey, we made it all winter without the kids really coming down with anything.” Seriously, it’s like I opened the door, invited the damn virus inside and gave it tea and cookies.
She rallied late in the day on Saturday, so I felt okay about leaving when her dad offered to stay with her if I wanted to play some poker. (Okay, so I felt a little guilty leaving her, but knew he would take care of her as well as I would. And if she had asked me to stay, I would have. But when I left, she was in charge of the the remote control, so I knew she’d be all right.)
It’s been a few months since my last poker session, so I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d forgotten everything I know. But I made the final table (finishing 8th), and made some cash.
Which will come in handy to replenish our supply of Children’s Motrin.
Unless I can get that corporate sponsorship after all.
P.S. The fever returned late that night and stuck around yesterday, so the Girl will stay home from school today.
P.P.S. I received no compensation for mentioning Motrin. Unfortunately. But whoever makes Motrin? Call me. Will consider offers for sponsorship of present and future bouts of illness. (Also? Liquor companies are welcome to apply.)
P.P.P.S I’m sure this headache I have is completely unrelated to the bug that the Girl has.