“The mail must go through, the mail must go through. No matter if it rains or snows, the mail must go through.”
– Larry Groce and the Disney sing along gang
Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.
– Inscription on post offices
That last one is not the official motto of the US Postal Service. I know you thought it was – I sure did. But come to find out, they don’t have an offical motto.
No matter – until they add “the plague” to their list, the US Postal service has nothing on mommas.
Started Sunday – not terrible, just uncomfortable. Terrible came later. I won’t even go into all of it…why? You already know what I am talking about.
The neat thing about a momma getting sick is our first thought – Please don’t let the kids catch it. Sounds noble, doesn’t it? It’s not. Granted, part of it is we love our children dearly and hate to see them feel bad.
But typically, the kid gets it too. Then sick momma takes care of sick kid. Fun.
The truth is, if the kids don’t get sick, you have well kids to contend with. This has it’s own set of issues.
Bless the sweeties – they try really hard to be sympathetic to the sick mommy. There is the initial, “Oh, poor mommy. Let me kiss it. Do you need some medicine? Let me bring you breakfast in bed.”
That last one jolts you up as you swear you are fine and, no, breakfast in bed is not necessary (can you just imagine that carnage?!?)
Well, if you don’t need breakfast in bed, then they are ready for you to make theirs, and pack their lunch, and iron their clothes, and find that library book they lost, and oh, did I mention that you are supposed to call the teacher today – something about a frog and a milk carton…