I really hate it when my kids are sick.
It pains me to see them suffer.
It pains me they are home.
It pains me that it totally interrupts my routine ( like I have nothing else to do ), and I become maid, slave, bucket holder and drug distributor and general dogs body.
Hey wait!!!
That's not so different to others days! see, I can talk myself into optimism.
Still, I love them, and who cares if the vacuuming waits for another day. (I care, as I feel a little feral with the floor being so grotty) OK, so who cares if the vacuuming waits another 10 minutes, I might be able to squeeze Oprah in!!!
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