I think I have finally recovered from the lack of sleep last week. Hopefully. With some extra assistance from the giant Tim Horton’s French Vanilla I treated myself to. When we spoke last week I was mentioning that Molly and Grace were both ill with the monkey pandemic, and Maggie had just had dental surgery. I got all 3 on their feet and shipped back to school on Wednesday, sure that we had narrowly dodged starring in our own Outbreak sequel. It seems I was counting my chickens before they were hatched. I think my major mistake was disinfecting and putting away the barf buckets. It’s just like taking snow tires off too soon in the Spring. Classic rookie mistake.
Molly was off the rest of the week. I slept for about 12 minutes total. And as much as I can feel my mental sharpness turning duller than the fiftieth consecutive game of Candyland, I had no idea that my everyday state of confusion was the “I’m on top of it” version of me. The tired version of me is so much worse.
Find out what Tara screwed up over at Don’t Lick the Deck