Hmmm, lemme think.
We puked. In mom's bed. On Dad's pillow. WHILE HE WAS USING IT.
We ran a fever.
We hung out all day in Number One's bed with him while HE had a fever, watching Spongebob and taking breaks for chicken soup and ice pops, and no one had a poke fight or called for Mommy ONCE, alarming Mommy greatly.
We coughed so much we puked some more...a lot...
We ran another fever, and another, and another.
We went to the doctor, and were diagnosed with strep.
We took antibiotics.
And Tylenol. (GENERIC. Dear GODS, I KNOW ABOUT THE DAMN RECALL, DOC, THANK YOU! Sheesh.)
We complained of tongue pain and stopped eating.
We went back to the doctor 36 hours after the first visit and were diagnosed with Coxsackie virus for these:
We took many more drugs, including some specially prepared concoction called "magic mouthwash".
We developed drug-butt from the all meds, creating some very.. um.. colorful diapers and bringing all potty training to a sudden and emphatic halt.
We went to the ER for the infected finger that the doctor had just looked at that morning but which had swelled alarmingly and was developing red streaks.
We were diagnosed with an "herpetic whitlow".
We had a new doctor who questioned the Coxsackie diagnosis.
We Googled "Coxsackie" and "herpetic whitlow".
We got yet another prescription, which the pharmacy didn't want to fill because the ER wrote the Devil's nickname instead of her full name, and we all know there's a red-hot black market for antivirals around here, yo.
We wrote a demented blog post!