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One of Sam's rugrat friends passed on some sort of crud to him, which he unwittingly brought home to infect the rest of us.

The cruel joke of it is that now Sam is feeling better -- and is racing around at top speed -- and George and I are arguing about which one of is the sickest, and therefore entitled to sleep in and/or go to Urgent Care, while the other takes care of Sam.

Since George got up in the middle of the night to deal with the raccoon that attempted to infiltrate our house at two a.m., he's winning. Damn him.

Posted 07 February 2006 at 08:43 AM