When I started this post, I asked M: “What is it called when you’re in the military and you’re sick?” and he said, “Malingering.” “No, really?” “Sick call.”

And there we are.  Sick call.  It’s 95 today and tomorrow: and we have a cold. A major effing cold. Pea has been snotty and coughing all week, but she’s a kid and kids do that. She still has a lingering cough and is, well, less charming than normal, so I’m guessing she’s still sick.

Now the real babies in the household, which is to say, we who are in our thirties and forties? We are miserable. Sore throats, coughing, sneezing, and just generally miserable and cranky.  We’re on the Robitussin Express, as we say. (I don’t know why we say it, but we do.) I’m not sure if I picked the right weekend or the wrong weekend to give up caffeine, but I’m wishing I could just go to sleep and wake up in a few days.