It had been my intention to make today a day off. That all changed when elder daughter walked into our bedroom at 12:22am and said "I just threw up."
Now that we're into the new era where both of us are working full time, this had about the same effect as someone yelling "the house is burning down." Both my wife and I knew what this pronouncement meant: that she would be up in the night and that I would be stuck at home all day trying to get a fever down. My daughter doesn't handle fevers well.
As elder daughter headed back to the bathroom, my wife got out of bed and administered necessary treatment along with compassionate understanding. When she came back to bed I asked, "Why did she throw up?"
"She had a fever of 102," she said matter-of-factly.
"I'm a dead man," said I. I assume that I'm a a goner for two reasons:
1. We had pizza for dinner on Thursday, the night eldest daughter became sick and I, as is my custom, helped said daughter by finishing off the pizza crust that she did not want. Some of you who have no kids may think this is odd, and perhaps it is. But that's the way it goes at our house. Good pizza crust should never, ever be wasted. So I ate this daughter's leftover pizza crust, meaning, in retrospect, that I'm doomed, healthwise.
2. I start my new job on Monday, so it goes without saying that I'll get sick between now and then.
Did I mention that I'd appreciate whatever prayers you might choose to say on my behalf?
I did? Good.