Lift your fists up high

This too shall pass.
Really.
Right???
or
Yeah right??? 

We have a rare genetic disorder which prevents sleeping in our offspring.
I'm sure.
Especially Satan, a.k.a. Son#3 and his Little Helper, a.k.a. Son#2 who happens to be half human, half hygrometer and wakes at the slightest dripping of rain on his window.
It was an interesting night, and today had its highlights too.

Mostly, today was surreal.
Imagine our breakfast table this morning.
Son#1, excited-freaky-because-I-am-going-to-grandma.
Son#2, vomiting at the table, helllooooooo again, Mr. Stomach Bug.
Son#3, tired and cranky and whiny from yet another sleepless night.
The husband, shuffling around in his bathrobe, trying to placate me, the wife, who has fits of hysteria.

The husband is right, I'm not a caring kind of person.
I can look after, but caring, that's another cup of tea.
Please note, this is not an insult.
It's actually a very accurate observation.
I appreciate self-sufficiency.
There.
I said it.
No thunderbolts....  yet.


.