Thursday, 6 October 2011
No hole too big or too small to emit stuff
The twins both have florid patches of weeping pox all over their perfect little bodies. Twin1 was in our bed crying and and scratching all night. The husband slept in twin1's bunk to tend to the equally itchy twin2. Twin1 insisted on cuddling up close to me which meant poking and jabbing my bad arm to the state where it feels like a shredded flutter of palid, useless flesh held together by its hyper sensitive coating.
My parents have taken them out for a walk, tucked up in their pushchair so I can get some work done. If my parents weren't a) here and b) as generous as they are, I'm sure my fingernails would be the only things keeping me attached to the crumbling cliff by now. Since my return from the UK 3 weeks ago the children have lost liquid from orifices and pores in a steady stream of matter not suitable for print. Their absence from kindy and the mess this stream produces would have sent me over the edge but ma and pa have hosted sleepovers, provided countless park and beach trips for the children and helped keep my house in some kind of order. Grateful isn't the word.
This weekend lad turns 5. I had a quick scan down the invitees to see who I need to call and tell of the girls' pox but all the children coming either have chicken pox at the moment or are recovering from it. Perfect. Let the games commence.