Once upon a time, a couple in their late 30s cuddled on their king size bed anticipating the upcoming birth of their son. They also anticipated the arrival of their new pillow top, memory foam mattress that would finally allow the mom-to-be a good night’s rest. In all their wisdom (they weren’t spring chickens, after all) they had chosen to downsize to a queen size bed because, “It’ll keep us from being tempted to let the kid sleep with us because they’ll be no room. Our bed should be ours.”
Fast forward 6 ½ years later. They now have two children and their bed has never been theirs. Never. They now laugh at their lame brained idea to downsize to a queen, as if a kid gives a rat’s ass about there being no room for them in the bed. Hahahahahahahaha…
As I write these words, my daughter is coughing up a lung and my son is doing a victory dance because he has a fever and can’t go to school…again. My kids have been alternating illnesses, one kid sick, one kid well, for the last few weeks. I’ve lost count of how many times they’ve swapped bugs but on Monday their germs finally converged and they are now sick at the same time. Which, oddly enough, gives me a bit of a break because they can now entertain each other (when they’re not fighting or coughing).
The good news is, we’ve discovered that our new leather-ish couch is vomit resistant (probably due to its leather-ish composition) and lucky for you, what they have can’t be caught through the internet.
The bad news is, my brain is mush and this is all I can give you.