Sick Day (or Misery Doesn't Love Company, or anything else for that matter…)

After a whole night of waking up hourly to answer the call of the J-Man (Achoo…Mama…..my nose….) I finally accepted it: J-Man has a cold, or flu or something. Initially figured it was allergies since he suffers terribly and 'tis the season. But no…he's sick. Undeniably sick.

So the living room is the sick room today. All decked out with a mattress, tissue bag, numerous boxes of tissues and most importantly: the tv remote. Yes, at our house being sick means guilt-free, unedited viewing all day of PBS Kids, Noggin or whatever makes my little guy stop whimpering continuously.

He is Misery personified today. He doesn't want anything, won't lay down and rest, just sits there looking pitiful. My day is filled with the sounds of "Achoo" followed by "Whaaaaaaaaa, ahhhhh, my nose, mama my nose…." Is this child incapable of sneezing into the tissue on his own? I guess so. If I don't succumb to the misery it'll be a miracle.

But finally…hours later he sleeps. I tiptoe around the house hoping to not awake sleeping sick boy because the quiet is so peaceful (apart from the inane and seemingly endless commercials on the tv-which I hate but tolerate if it makes him happy and keeps him sleeping).

Don't worry. I won't post the other picture of how my day is going. You don't want to see it. I thought the day couldn't get any worse…but no. Today the toilet decides to back up and overflow. So now not only do I have a whimpering boy to tend to I also have to stop everything to do a major cleanup of the bathroom. Granted, it did need a cleaning but I'd rather not do it because the toilet is being naughty.

So now my hands are chafed from cleaning. I'm cranky from lack of sleep. Hungry because I've not had a moment to feed myself anything beyond coffee and toast. And yes, it's Tax Day. I know, I know…it's not like I didn't know it was coming. But I also knew we'd owe so why rush to get them into the mail along with a check that's painfully large. Why not wait until very late on T-Day to rush to post office? Because, Murphy's Law dictates that today of all days when I need to do something Son gets contagiously sick, Toilet backs up, Hubby is in the field and incommunicado for the whole day, and all my Family are out of the county.

So it's just me…stuck at home with a terribly unhappy son, stressing about our taxes, seeing just how dirty my house is really is (thank you naughty potty) and doing endless rounds of laundry and dishes… Fun, fun fun! How's your day?