We're sick - thanks to Dad. Seems like I carried a tiny seasonal cold home with me this past week, and the troops held out as long as they could - fighting a valiant battle as my own sneezes and coughs set-up a formidable offensive. Elise was the first to crumble, unable to maintain a strong resistance. Poor thing. It's always the youngest who suffer first.
Wyatt has taken his own tumble, too - perhaps because the sister he insists on tackling and badgering began coughing on him as her lone defense. So, for two days now, Wyatt has been carrying around his little green, blue and white blanket as the world's largest Kleenex - incessantly wiping his nose so that he looks something like Rudolph ... a completely unintended costume.
Anna - so far - has managed to weather the storm, mostly by injecting herself with Zicam and keeping her distance. Actually, I don't know how she isn't yet sick, not when both of our children have repeatedly expelled their viral spray all over Anna's cereal bowl. At this rate, Anna is going to hold out longer than Leningrad during the Germ-an onslaught. Amazing.
Although, she just told me that the real test will come tomorrow when she rises early for her Monday swim. That alone will tell if she is truly well.
As a result of our combined colds, there was no ArtAttack at DePauw this year. That marks two years in a row we've missed this great community event for kids because of illness. Maybe next year.
Hope you're well,
Wes
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