Chipmunk Cheeks

My family has been pretty fortunate to avoid most of the winter season sickness junk that has been going around. However, Mason came home from school on Monday with a temperature, and complaining of a sore throat. The school nurse informed us that one of the kids in his class has had strep throat, and I knew we were in for it too, since he rarely complains about stuff like that. Problem was, this all came to a head too late on Monday afternoon to get to the Dr. right away. I knew we'd need to go on Tuesday morning, and they were calling for freezing temperatures and ice. Great. Yesterday turned out to be okay- the ice came later- but I did get him right over to the Dr's office, where they did indeed confirm that he has strep throat, and reminded us all to practice good hand washing, and to try to keep Mason away from everyone else as much as possible.

After a quick mental pat on the back for my Mommy Intuition actually being RIGHT for a change; I developed the twitch that accompanies the idea of being trapped at home with a sick kid and an ice storm on the way. The Dr. sent me on my way with an antibiotic, and happily said, "Let me know if you need anything else!" to which I replied that I would LOVE to have something to keep me from going stir crazy. He just laughed. I think he thought I was joking.

Mason took his role of quarantine very seriously, and was very mindful of heading straight to his bedroom to retire in style with pj's, coloring books, reading books, and a good ol' comfy down throw. I immediately went about the house with my carton of Clorox wipes, sanitizing the Wii controller, all computer keyboards, television remotes, door knobs, light switches and toilet handles- feeling a sense of victory as I wiped away the germs with every stroke.

It was just about dinner time, and I had successfully managed to keep the boys separated, sanitized, and hopefully in a germ-free fly zone. Martin came home from work early, because of the pending ice build up on the roads, and we began to prepare dinner. Suddenly, Mason shouted down that all-to-familiar "Mommmmmeeeee?????......" warning cry- the one that I know means Coen's doing something BAD. I ran up the stairs- and while headed up, Mason explained my worst fear.... "Coen's drinking out of my water bottle."

No. Way. I shrieked, and bounded across the room, snatching the water bottle from his mouth- only to see Coen guiltily look up at me like a chipmunk, with cheeks full of Mason's germy water.

And so, my friends, I'll keep you posted.