Late Night Fiasco

Last weekend, David got a cold. I know exactly how he got it. He stayed up late doing work from the office 3 nights in a row (later than midnight late). Whenever he does this, he gets overly tired (duh), often gets sick, and he ALWAYS gets a fever. It's a male Reisinger thing...even my mother-in-law gave me a kind warning when we got married, and told me, "Whenever David gets sick, he always gets a fever." Okay, sure...no problem. I found this to be 100% true when David got sick about 8 weeks into married bliss. And yes, that's when the honeymoon was over. Enough said.

So now, I have David's cold. And the worst part about being sick is...being sick. There are no sick days when you're a mom. This is one thing I wish aloud every time I'm under the weather (which thank the Lord is very rare)..."Can someone please take care of ME?" I take care of house, husband, and kids when anyone is sick, but if I'm the one in bed, I end up taking care of myself. Now, to give David credit, he is usually busy taking care of 4 kids to do much of anything else, and he does a fantastic job of it, so I do understand why I'm left to my own devices. But I don't like it...at all.

Last night, I got everyone into bed without any trouble, (David was at his FTCM class) passed out hugs and kisses, and went downstairs. My throat was burning, my sinuses were completely stopped up, so I took care of a few things, and decided to climb into bed with a hot cup of tea...really ready by then to hit the sack.

Well, not so fast...I hear the pitter patter of little feet in the bathroom. Rebecca and Christina know they are not allowed to get out of bed after lights are out. I go upstairs, open the girls' door, and I'm immediately assalted by the scent of baby powder mixed with perfume (yes, they have Disney Princess perfume). It's strong enough for even my clogged nose to smell. I check the bathroom and sure enough, Christina was the perfume fairy. She had also found an old canister of baby powder under the sink and used it to decorate the floor, bathmats, and stools. Lovely....

I turn around, march downstairs for the dustbuster, broom and dustpan, clean up the mess, give the girls the lecture of their lives, ground them both for 3 days, tell them to go to sleep, "or else," go back downstairs, and crawl into bed, without the tea, because I'm too tired to make it now. I can still the smell baby powder...