After three trips to the doctor, two bottles of amoxicillin, two bottles of prednisolone, boxes of kleenex and countless nebulizer treatments, Ham and Babe-o’s are finally on the mend. I never went down with it completely but was just sick enough to lose my voice so I couldn’t yell at anyone.

So the other day I thought we would sit down to a nice lunch together instead of the soup/crackers/jello routine we’d been on. The girls were talking about what they want to be when they grow up:

Babe-o’s: “I want to be a dog when I grow up.”

Ham: “You mean you want to be a vet.”

Babe-o’s: “No, I said a dog!”

Babe-o’s to Mommy: “Do you want to be an old woman when you grow up?”

Me: “Why would you ask me that?”

Ham: “Cause you are going to be one.”

The funny thing is, I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

I had the opportunity to attend a leadership retreat in St. Louis for three days and now I am following up that mountain top high with two sick children at home. Poor babe-o’s spent her birthday yesterday at the doctor’s office. And when the doctor asked her to open wide so she could look at her throat, she clamped her little mouth shut, shook her head no and folded her arms across her chest! I was hopeful the terrible three’s would be behind us. At least my third grader is healthy..and my husband.

So just one question- when your husband gets sick does he promptly put himself to bed? Because last night I felt myself going down with a heachache and sore throat. I said I was going to bed early but by the time I did the dishes and some laundry and checked on the kids..well you know how it is. Then I thought, “what would a man do?”