My week: disinfectant wipes, mop, medicine, call the doctor, more medicine, call the doctor again, have a cabin fever induced meltdown, cook, medicine again, disinfect, and, of course, disinfect.
So far no one else is sick (knock on wood, throw salt over my shoulder, cross my fingers, carry a horse shoe, and find a 4 leaf clover). My usual cleanliness is in overdrive to the point of obession. The kids are tired of hearing me say, "And wash your hands. . . WITH SOAP!" They usually respond with, "I know MOM! And I'll sing Happy Birthday while I do it and wipe up my mess after." What good little children.
I got raves for last night's roasted potatoes. Even Brody who repeatedly squeaked out, "I am not going to eat those!" despite having absolutely no voice (just like him to still have the drive to bitch even without a voice) ended up liking them and asking for more. The main course was breaded cod which everyone also loved, although I must give Target the credit for its masterful frozen fish creations.
Well, back to disinfecting. I'm pretty sure Brody just touched the remote control. DOn't worry, I'm on it!!
1 comment:
Gee, and I thought that I was the world's most controlling Germ Cop.
For your spare tomatoes: cut them into chunks, toss them in a freezer-proof ziploc with some freshly minced garlic & chopped basil. Freeze and in a few weeks, you'll have lovely, fresh tomato sauce. Voila.
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