Now that everyone except parents have escaped, you may indulge in the guilty pleasure of reading someone else's horror story.
The kid's a bit dramatic. When asked if she's sick (we no longer do), she responds she's sick. This time, it really was a wolf. After a night where no one slept well, the cranky bunch trodded out the door. The wife took the brunt of this one. While en route to preschool, bang, out of nowhere, it happened.
Immediate turn around. Clean the kid, get her to bed, clean the car seat, vacuum the car, laundry, laundry, laundry all with sick parents. Playing with the kid and spending time being beat at Candy Land is the fun part. These incidents are where we earn our stripes. It reminds us of the utopia of boredom, we cut our time in pergatory, we're less queasy in most situations that used to shock us; years later we laugh at it while still feeling stabbed by the pain. Let's hope it passes fast.
Wish I could've taken the bullet on this one Hon.