The Germ Grinch

It is Christmas night. Late. And the day has been a riot from the moment when Mishal began throwing up at 3.30am. The rest of the day has been long - the usual mountains of wrapping paper, jolly music and cracker pulling, but add in there doling out hand sanitizer and medicine to half a dozen ailing folks who are clutching their tummies and groaning, multiple loads of washing and disinfecting toilets, buckets and floors. Now it is nearly midnight so this won't be a long post. Maddy is still being violently ill every half an hour and is a pale shivering shadow, and the others range from mild cramps to lying prostrate in great distress. Greg is sleeping downstairs in the girl's den so he can get up to them in the night and I have the bubba upstairs who hasn't actually thrown up during the day but whose molars are causing her no end of pain and distress. Sleep is a high commodity. So is humour. But tomorrow is another day. And will hopefully hold both. I am singing 'Silent Night' in faith!

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