Smells like undies

My house has been full of sickies this week. Both the Mouse and my Ballerina have had terrible hacking coughs and unlimited supplies of snot. My beloved has been afflicted with the lurgy too, poor thing. Considering Jack had his bout of gastro last week, and I had the cough / throat / cold thing the fortnight before that, we're a bunch to avoid at the mo'.

It's unavoidable, really, when the three kidlets share a bedroom. I mean, one of them only has to cough, and the others immediately inhale the germs. In the same vein, usually as soon as one of them sneezes, I inhale the beasts, since usually the sneeze is emitted straight into my face. I'm not sure why, but for some reason I have always been the target for snot, dribble, vomit and wee. I'm sure it's got nothing to do with my personality.

The entire family is a bit battle-worn, actually, since I doubt anyone has had a full nights' sleep in at least a week. If we're not being disturbed by someone doing the emphysemic hurl, then it's the constant sniffing, or calling out for drinks of water for parched throats, or the dispensing of Panadol. Last night, they all slept relatively soundly (Christian commented this morning that he had slept much better than the previous few nights. He didn't need to tell me. I was awake...with Archie. Humph.) which made everybody a bit happier.

Anyhow, after a week of wiping runny noses, and sad baby-crying from the Mouse in her sleep, and enough coughing to extract a lung or three, it would seem my little brood are magicians. Because in the last 24 hours, despite being exhausted, despite the constant drip under their noses, they have made me laugh so hard, I swear I have laid more than one egg. I wouldn't argue with you in the slightest if you suggested there was an hysterical edge to my mirth...

We visited the doctor yesterday for Daddy and Maisie, to have their chests listened to and their ears checked. Daddy got some antibiotics; the Mouse was free to return to her regimen of Panadol and cuddles. The kindly doctor gently examined Maisie and then gave her back to me, commenting softly, "You're a good girl, aren't you?" "No!", exclaimed Miss Mouse, defiantly. I laughed, despite myself, especially when Maisie marched to the door, waved "Ai!" sweetly to the doctor, and tried to leave. Clearly, she wasn't waiting around for the free jellybean.

We went home for a quiet afternoon - Daddy had a little nap while the girls played. Upon seeing Phoebalina's fetching outfit of fairy wings,a singlet and a ballet skirt, Maisie disappeared and came back with fairy wings of her own. She insisted I put them on her, and marched about the place looking very pleased with herself.

Poor old Jack has been very patient with his sick sisters this week, especially the grumpy Mouse. He came home from school yesterday very pleased with himself, since he had behaved well enough to get three stars on the 'Star Learner' chart. He was so happy that, on the way home from school he made up a song about "Daddy's Fizzy Bottom". Yes, you read that correctly. And no, I am not going to elaborate, but I'm sure you can work it out!!!!

Obviously we are entering the stage of boyhood obsessed with smells and bottoms and dirty-yucky-stinky things, because Jack did something I found both disturbing and weirdly hilarious tonight (not sure if it says more about me than him, though) He was getting undressed after dinner, and gathered his school uniform up to put in the laundry hamper. He showed me his school trackie pants and asked if they were clean enough for tomorrow. They looked ok, so I asked him to hang them on the end of his bed. Instead, he stuck his whole head inside the pants, inhaled deeply and said solemnly, "Mmmm. Smells like undies."

Right. So it would appear that I am officially the mother of a boys' boy. One thing is for certain - I'm going to have to curtail my desire to laugh out loud every time Jack or the girls do something disgusting or cheeky. It doesn't bode well for my disciplinary skills, does it?