Ugh

The best laid plans of mice and men never include alternate plans in case of illness. So it goes.

Samson spent Saturday with a 102 fever and snot running from his nose like the great Ganges. He was OK by Sunday. Which meant it was then my turn.

I spent almost all of yesterday either sleeping or in the bathroom. Bad times.

Even sweet Jane was feeling under the weather with a stuffy nose.

So Vicki's Mother's Day gift was that she alone was spared the wave of illness that descended upon our house. Until late Sunday night.

And all my plans of a weekend in Washington, a trip to the farmer's market, and an ice cream date with the kids to celebrate Mother's Day went unexecuted.

I suppose there's always next weekend.

I believe Pliny the Elder said it best when he wrote: Sucko.