I spent yesterday morning at the emergency room and yesterday evening at - you guessed it - the emergency room. This little guy:
Decided that a fever and a wet sounding cough would be lots of fun to take to the Lannis house on Saturday. He had so much fun in the emergency room on Sunday morning - when we found out that (surprise!) it's probably a virus and just let it go for a few days - that he made his eye swell up and put spots all over his arms so he could go back again.
Didn't I look like the crazy mother. Nope. Not a question.
And it turns out he has bug bites and pink eye. Home we trot at 9:30 PM, leaving me very little time to eat something for dinner (McDonald's and strawberries. You heard me.) and fall into bed.
And it would have been fine, except for The Tantrum.
The roaring, screaming, spitting, 1:30 in the morning, I don't even understand what she's saying so I'll sit down in the rocking chair and be kind of frightened of her Tantrum.
That ended with her in our bed for an hour, pushing us to the very edges and talking about dinosaurs.
Suffice to say I'll tell you about our groceries tomorrow, and eventually the Lannis visit too. Because it was awesome.
See? Good things do happen around here.
Just not at 1:30 in the morning.
