Caleb came home from daycare today with a fever of 102.5, which is odd because none of his other body parts appear to be out of whack. Normally, it goes like this:
fever + runny nose = sick,
fever + sore ear = sick,
fever + throwing up = sick.
So now I'm just all confused. Last night, he laid around like a fat tick on a dog, didn't eat his dinner, and went to bed at 7pm. This morning, he woke up acting normal but didn't want to eat his most-favorite breakfast of the month: applesauce. I did somehow convince him to eat a green ice pop, but mostly by pretending I didn't care if he ate it or not. (He's two. It's self-explanatory.)
Time to bust out the bleach and the hand sanitizer. I'm not necessarily a germaphobe, but I am the one in the house who always seems to get it the worst, and I get it the longest. If it were a contest, I'd be psyched about it, but it's definitely no contest. There is no blue ribbon for being the best at being sick; there's just a big trail of tissues and lozenge wrappers. Considering I'm back in school full-time with the majority of my classes on campus, please refer to Sweet Georgia Brown - ain't nobody got time for that.
In other news, my 9-year-old can't seem to remember to bring his notebook and agenda home from school each day. The kid can remember every combination of items on Minecraft, but can't remember to put two things into his backpack when the bell rings. I don't get it. The first mishap landed him three days with no Nintendo DS on the bus, which is usually enough to do the trick: he's got to remember three days in a row and then he gets his DS back. This time, however, on the last day of punishment he decided to forget his math homework at school, resulting in loss of DS and computer privileges. I hate this whole computer generation. I mean, I dug the shit out of some Ms. Pac Man, but "this whole electronic age is a bunch of bullshit," she types, ironically, into her wireless laptop.
Hey. Shut up over there. It's bath time.