The Punies

I don't know why, but when I was a kid and stayed home sick my dad would come home from work and question me about my (in his eyes) supposed sickness. I didn't miss a lot of school as a kid, I was hardly ever sick, so I have no idea what his interrogation tactic was all about.

Anyway, when he would determine that I was indeed sick he'd refer to me as having "The Punies". I have no idea what that means.

Right now my entire house has "The Punies"...all except me and the animals that is. In the past two weeks my husband has had poison Ivy, which has finally passed, and now has a major league sore throat. He finally broke down and called the Doctor's office for some drugs. Typical man, calls the office to get meds but won't step foot in the office, then complains to me when the meds he got (and didn't see the doctor to get) don't work. That's an argument I'll never win.

My daughter is now complaining of a sore throat this morning. Great. She's also getting her permanent molars in right now, so she's a real barrel of fun. I think the sore throat is a monkey see monkey do thing with her. You know, Dad's sick and gets to lay around and have mom wait on him hand and foot, maybe I could do the same. Nobody ever waits on me when I'm sick. Oh well, part of being a Mom I suppose.

I think I'll get out the Lysol and spray so much I have a haze in the house.