Whoa is We

First it was the dog. She greeted us, after almost three weeks away, with a horrible gastronomic issue that took her, and a very tired me, to the dog ER the night we arrived in Chicago. She came home with an IV and a medical bill that actually made Jack cry. Next it was my turn, attacked by something last weekend (which I am convinced came from swimming with the women from the old country at the gym), I spent the entire weekend in bed.

And now it's Kate, listless and sick, still in her pajamas, Kate is laying low on the sofa in the family room while her sister runs from one end of the place to the other. Eleanor knowingly watches all this from the relative security of her own bed, having seen it all before. In two days it will be Mary sprawled across the furniture while Kate begs to go outside. Eleanor knows, if they don't shape up they end up stuffed in a cage with a needle in their small leg, far from home, afraid, and begging for water. Of course we never take the children to the ER, only the dog.

Stay strong Jack.