Where has the week gone?

Oh, I'd give you the details of the past week, but I don't remember most of the past week. I have some recollection of sleeping, popping ibuprofen pills and sleeping some more. The rest is just a haze. Wait. There is a conversation with my doctor involving his suggestion that I just have my rotten tonsils ripped out once and for all that I seem to also recall, but that's it. That's all I have for you. Rotten tonsils and sleep. Yeah, I didn't think you wanted to hear about any of that.

Tell me, do you know if there's some sort of Father of The Year award? Because after the past week, I think Mike could be a serious contender. He's been handling all household functions and child care while maintaining a full-time job. I don't think he's even complained, or if he has, I've been too feverish to notice. Either way, I still think he deserves something and right now all I'm coming up with is chocolate pudding. Nothing says thank you like chocolate pudding, right? No? Are you sure?