Quarantined pt. II

A germaphobe is defined as any person who is obsessed with cleanliness and defeating bacteria. And on one hand, I'm clearly not a full-fledged 'phobe [I live by the 3 second rule (which is occasionally extended to the 3 minute rule) and will eat a downed potato chip off of pretty much any surface]... But on the other hand, if we go by sentiment alone, then I think I could have become an instant vote-in for the germaphobe club president when I opened my front door last week. In walks a two-year-old that we had agreed to babysit overnight, her nose dripping with mucus and coughing like a chain smoker. And so the fun began. A 24 hour chorus of coughing, and a revolving door on the nose-wiping department. The truth is, given the circumstances, we probably could have done better with quarantining her (lets play a game called "hide in the attic")... but as they say, hindsight is 20/20.

And sure enough, two days later, Justin is in the bed with the chills, a 102 degree temperature, two vomit sessions, and an inability to slow his breathing below 45 breaths per minute. You want to talk about a long night? Kudos to the doctors and nurses that we kept on the phone past midnight. Our only saving grace was that Jasmine slept thru it all. As for the "VH1 where are they now?" update, Justin has been diagnosed with a touch of pneumonia, which is only complicated by the usual asthmatic precondition that he hasn't quite outgrown yet. Mommy is in the bed; itchy-throated and congested. And Jasmine is the entertainment: making everyone laugh by blowing snot bubbles thru her nose while still grinning from ear-to-ear. Ironically enough, I think my only saving grace is that I had the flu (I think for the first time ever) about 2 or 3 weeks ago, and so my immune system seems to be at full throttle now. But of course, as I write this, I'm sipping a cup of tea to soothe my throat that has suddenly become just a wee bit itchy (ugh). So we'll see what happens.

As for now, we are officially in quarantine again here at the Reyes residence. Stay back 500 feet. Or take your chances with the nose-dripping snot-packing posse known as my family. You've been warned.

"We're in this together, kiddo."