It turns out that going out in 50-degree windy weather to fight with grown women who won't get out of the way of your two year old who just wants to watch the parade because they want cheap plastic beads is detrimental to your health, especially if you are all ready starting with the scratchy throat.
I was just a tiny bit sick. I thought I was well enough to traipse to the Gasparilla children's parade.
Ahem. No.
So now I'm full-blown-plague sick, just in time to take my mom to her biopsy and deal with children on my own for hours between when I get home and when Hubby gets home. Where does it end? I went to bed at 8pm last night and didn't get out of bed until 8:30 this morning, quarantined myself to my cubical for 7 hours and then came home to make myself soup. This one time, I'll say thank God for Caillou. Watch as much as you want, please and thank you. Number Two has spent over an hour wanting to be held, and now he has bounced himself sleepy and is taking an impromptu nap in the bouncer - I love that.
Anyhow, I am better now than I was this morning, and I'm hoping that Hubby will bring with him some more Tylenol Severe Cold which I can chase with soup and then hit the hay again. My flight on Friday will be awesome with a head cold, let me tell you. Let's hope it goes away pronto.
Menu for this week:
Monday: tortellini and spinach soup
Tuesday: pad see-ew
Wednesday: grilled chicken salad
Thursday: pulled pork sandwiches and homemade sweet potato chips
Friday: chicken tacos
Saturday: I'm out of ideas ... any suggestions?
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