I planned to dress as a ladybug for Halloween. Maybe I should go as a pig.
That's right. Our house may currently be infected with swine flu.
The doctor doesn't know and, of course, they're not testing.
Esme started coughing last night and this morning her cheeks looked like someone splashed them with red paint. Her temperature: 101.8. The doctor took her immediately. Checked her lungs. A-oK. Then sent her home with instructions to wash her hands and take it easy.
Happy Halloween, Dr. Killjoy!
Of course, Esme dissolved into tears at the table when I told her this meant no trick-or-treating. And worse, no block party!
For weeks, we've been talking about the fete the street is throwing. We're blocking traffic this afternoon and putting up tents and tables. It's a potluck party with kids games, adult beverages, costumes and the second annual kids photo.
The first rule of parenting is be flexible. Actually, I just made that up to suit my purposes. Better first rules might be patience, understanding, a well-stocked liquor cabinet, a good shrink on speed dial. I'm sure you have your own.
Anyway, I switched gears quickly and now Esme and I have a party of our own planned. On the porch. Where we can see the block partiers but not infect them. We'll dress up and carve pumpkins and have a time of it.
So, where am I going to find a pig snout and corkscrew tail on such short notice?