Maybe I kissed my kids square on the mouth because I thought I had an impenetrable immune system.

Maybe I shared Agalia’s applesauce spoon because I thought it might help toughen me up a bit if my body had to fight whatever she was fighting.

Maybe I chomped on the same piece of chicken DJ was eating just because if my kids are going through it, dad should go through it, too.  Solidarity, brothers and sisters.

Or maybe I’m just desperate for a day off and will do anything to get a little time off, even if it means spending that time in bed.  Whatever the case, my head feels like it’s going to explode and my bones feel like they’re about to start crumbling like a sand castle at high tide.

Can I get a little pity? Pllleeeease?