Seriously? Seriously.

So Josh has a fever for the 14th day in a row.

WHAT?

And David got it yesterday.

For real. The knock-you-down, throw-you-into-bed influenza. He suffered through work yesterday somehow, but last night he was so miserable that he didn't sleep more than half the night. And he has literally slept six or seven hours so far today.

Then Ben woke up at 6:30 with the hacking cough that means we're about to enjoy the croup! Huzzah! Does that explain the non-stop runny nose he's had since Monday? The kind that is like a slow faucet, never stopping, never releasing me from the insanity of nose slime? Oh well, at least it's not the flu...yet...but even if it's not the flu, it's making him cranky, needy, and clingy. All good things, right?

And all the dresses I ordered for my recital don't fit.

And I had to miss helping in kindergarten and couldn't find anyone to sub for me. I hate leaving the teacher in the lurch like that.

And I couldn't go to the viewing or funeral of a man in our ward, due to all the sickies at my house, and that made me sad. I wanted to be there to support his family. But my family came first, I decided, and tried not to feel guilty.

So I worked on making a cake for his funeral. I thought I'd do something a little nicer than normal and made a pumpkin cake. While it cooled, I went downstairs to work on the evite for my recital. Until I heard some suspicious noises from upstairs. (Will I NEVER LEARN?) And found Ben had pushed a chair over to the oven and gone to town on the cake with a spatula and his little snotty fingers.


Yeah. I was excited.

And then Ben colored on my piano keys with a pencil.

And then I made another cake, realizing that the chances were slim of getting it to the church by the time the family was back from the cemetery, but I had volunteered a cake, and I was going to deliver that darned cake. And I did, but frosting a warm cake (even with my delicious chocolate frosting) is a disaster waiting to happen. And the cake wasn't pretty. And I had wanted it to be pretty. And I was feeling really sad about my sad cake and its sad frosting.

And then I delivered it and one of the older ladies in the ward said, "I told the others earlier that you always bring a hot cake and the frosting for us to put on later."

Seriously? Seriously. I mean, you say that? Honestly. I told myself that I didn't need to be offended (and if that has happened before with the DOZENS of cakes I've made for our funerals (we have an old ward), it has maybe been ONE TIME. Once. And Really? You'd bring that up?) So much for my whole "I never get offended" thing. I got sad. And maybe even cried a little on the way home, because it has just been one of those days.

And then I came home, and Liz called me from across the street, and I couldn't hide my stupid red eyes (because when I cry, it's not really something I can hide), and she was offering me SOUP. HOMEMADE CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP. Because she's just that awesome, that's why, and she didn't even know I was sad. That's what I call a friend, girl. Amazing. And she let me blubber, and I didn't name names (which is so Christlike of me). And she didn't ask for names (which is so Christlike of her.)

And then I went into the house and woke up David from his sick sleep and cried some more and said, "I just need to go on a run" and he said "Go for it" and I did it, and it wasn't feeling great, but I did it anyway, and when I came home, I felt much much better.

And then I realized it was April Fool's Day, so I decided to play a prank. I posted this picture:


(remember it from Halloween?) as my profile picture in Facebook, changed my religion to Fundamentalist and let the fun begin. One girl who doesn't know me well kind of believed it for a minute, I'm afraid. So that was a bright spot.

And now I'm feeling better almost all the way around.

Except (and I'm NOT lying) Kate just came downstairs telling me that Ben is coloring on my piano again.

Seriously.