There for a while every TV movie was about a super virus.  A super virus that would destroy all mankind and that all of our modern medicines would be worthless against.  I thought those movies were stupid. 

Then, I had Reagan.

I'm convinced Reagan is the carrier for the super virus.  She's sick.  Again.  I'm up to my elbows in soiled clothing.  My kitchen is a mess of medicines and thermometers, each promising a more accurate read than the others.  I am out of Kleenex. 

Yesterday I sat down for my lunch break, started to eat my Tomato Soup, and the phone rang.  Reagan.  Throw up.  Twice. 

I can handle it.  We've gotten very, very good at handling sickness here.  The worst part about it is that she has learned a new trick - giving kisses - and every time she runs to me or Wilson with her snotty, open mouthed kisses, I can visualize the super virus rubbing its hands together while thinking "One step closer to world domination!" 

The good news is that the weather is perfect, nice, breezy, low humidity.  So we set up our sick camp outside which means if someone should get sick there's a water hose to do the clean up and my carpets will get a (brief) reprieve. 

As I was doing the millionth load of soiled laundry Will asked "Mom, is it still Mother's Day?"  "No.  Mother's Day was last Sunday."  He breathed easy "Good, because I thought I was going to have to help you clean up puke if it was still Mother's Day."

Every day is Mother's Day.  Every. Single. Vomiting. Day.