Quarantine

I'm stuck inside until my test results come back. Send toaster waffles and whole milk. Maybe some Dora DVDs. STAT.

During last season's swine flu scare, I told Harry we couldn't play on the mall playground anymore because if he did, he'd get swine flu for sure. I sure do know how to effectively communicate with children, huh? He has shunned the play area every time we've gone to the mall, hanging tighter to my hand as we passed it and never once asking to go in.

When Ben got his nose fixed, though, sheer boredom, rainy weather, and a need to leave Ben the heck alone drove us to the nasty cesspool of a play area (after a nutritious and surely germ-free food court dinner). Harry gasped with horror, surprise, and excitement when I told him we were going to the indoor playground.

"Won't I get swine fwu?" he asked. I assured him he wouldn't. And it turns out he probably didn't.

But Jack did.

Maybe.

The test takes 3 days, and he only just got swabbed on Saturday. When we were at urgent care for 2 freaking hours crammed in an exam room because we were a health risk in the waiting area. And no one would come in to see us without full haz-mat gear.

Effing mall playground.

I'm going to put you on speakerphone, so I can gesticulate wildly. I said STAT. STAT!

I don't know how I can be so happy with a fever either. Maybe I'm a psychopath.