Friday The 13th

You know, maybe there is something to all of the superstition surrounding this date. So far, we've been having a pretty shaky day.

Sarah did not want to go to daycare today. She was happy. I don't think she was ill. She just wanted to stay home and play. I chased her around the house trying to get her dressed for what seemed like hours. She thought this was the best game ever. Finally, I sedated her with an episode of Sesame Street and was able to get a partially matching outfit on her.

At the daycare center, all seemed normal. Until, I made a move for the door. Sarah then broke into tears, begging me not to leave. She hadn't done this in months. Her favorite teacher took her to the window to wave bye-bye. This usually works like a charm. Not today. As I was driving off, where a normally happy kid would have been waving, I saw a little girl crying so hard that she puked. Oh... It's times like that when I just want to submit my resignation, scoop up my baby, and move us to a farm where we'll learn to live off of the land and make little dresses from flour sacks.

Apparently, the bad vibes from this date also affect dogs. (BE WARNED! GROSS STUFF COMING UP.) After abandoning Sarah, I took the dogs for a quick walk. I noticed that Sancho was VERY anxious to get out of the car. The second the trunk popped open, he hopped out and proceeded to spray brown liquid from his... (well, I think you get the picture). For the rest of the walk, Sancho and Lola took turns spraying or straining to spray their problems from their furry little bellies. What a joyous walk that was! Luckily, my head is so congested that I'm unable to smell a thing.

On Monday, I was diagnosed with bronchitis and today, I'm told that a sinus infection has joined the party (on the positive side, that means that I'll FINALLY get some antibiotics).

So, I'm not seeing how this day can get much worse. You win evil day. I'm staying in the safe folds of my home with my diarrhea afflicted dogs.