Lesser of two ills, or Lord of the Flies wasn't so bad

"Whose turn is it?" I mumble as I try to lift my cotton-filled head.

"Yours", he replies.

Agh. I take a roll-and-swing to lift my aching bodies out of the bed to attend to CU-3s request for a "bay-gil".

Yes, it's the lesser of two ills weekend again. Both DH and I (and to a much lesser extent CU-3 are sick again. Alas, when we finally get our flu shots at the end of the month, it may be for not.)

We seem to be a very efficient lot, mostly getting sick on weekends, feeling ok enough to wander into work when Monday rolls around.

It's almost noon and the fuzzy headed huz is just rizing. He's insisting on getting up to insulate a little-used door. Oh no, I can't do it for the family, the he-man (who rarely got sick prior to this year) has a special way he wants to do it this year. Oh well. At least it will get done.

As for me, I'm getting caught up on laundry, sort of. Sitting folding socks doesn't take that much energy, though, watching Dora L'exporatrice and Max et Ruby for the fourth time in a row because I can't get up to find/wrestle the remote from the 2 year old is getting kind of trying.

CU-3 is in her glory. You want to eat halloween candy for breakfast and lunch? Go right ahead. Standing for the 2 minutes to wait for the bagel to toast has taken a lot out of me.

Lord of the Flies has nothing on me.