The Sickie.

     I have a little cold right now and a slight fever. Apparently, that's enough to put me in some kind of hermetically sealed room on medical lock-down just this side of a leper colony. Right now, Evaline is getting more antibodies than anyone else in this house and if she gets sick at this point it's not like she's going to be missing any school or work. Now, before I start getting hate mail, I do understand an adult cold can potential become a baby killer, but it's a long shot. But I guess it's better to be safe than sorry.
     The weird thing is I actually want to be in there, you know? I feel like I'm in little league soccer all over again just hoping the coach will put me in. "Come on, Coach! I can do it! I know I didn't put that last diaper on correctly and poo got on your shirt...and I know I keep leaving dirty diapers in the crib...but I can do this man! One for the Gipper?" While I'm not a Notre Dame fan, I still get it. The point is to win. With parenthood, at this current time and place, that means keeping the baby alive. Anything short of that is pretty much considered a big "L". So, spreading my sick breath all over Evy probably isn't a good thing. I still don't think Catie should make me sleep in the guest bedroom, but I gotta listen to Coach...I mean Catie.