I hate Germs.

My household was invaded by a malicious cold/flu virus that kept us in it's grip for days, but I'm happy to say that we've all come through it, and now life is back to sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows. While our schedule was hijacked by microscopic invaders, I had lots of time to ponder.

As I laid on the couch,  plagued with fever, and living on Ibuprofen and Gatorade, I couldn't help but think deeply about the following things that accompany viruses in my home:

1. No one ever gets sick in my home unless my husband is working out of town, welding on gas pipe 5 hours away, in a place so remote that it's not on a map, and only accessible by a two-track dirt road. This leaves me home alone to cover the night shift for "Fever Patrol", and also leaves me as chairman of the "Vomit Clean-Up Committee".

2. My children only get mysterious illnesses and spike fevers over 103 degrees in the middle of the night, when there is no doctor's office open.  My kids never get sick between the business hours of 8am-5pm.  Why don't doctor's offices operate from the hours of 5pm-8am?  They'd make a killing! If I ever decide to become a doctor, which I won't, I'd have a practice called "P.M. Pediatrics".

3.  I'm perplexed by the absolute sacrificial love that I have for my children while they are ill.  It goes against every germ-a-phobic rule I live by. On a normal day, after heading to the Walmart, I slather on the hand sanitizer the second I get into my truck.  Yet when my babies get sick, I willingly throw myself "in the line of fire" so-to-speak, when I cuddle their feverish little bodies, wipe their runny noses, get coughed on, sneezed on, and clean up vomit.  Then, I allow them to sleep in my bed, knowing that they are two feet away, breathing virus-infested air on me all night long....just so I can keep an eye on them. That's love, right there.

4. Moms only get sick three days into caring for their sick children. Just kick us while we're down! At the three day mark, we're barely surviving, and getting very little sleep from being up with our feverish kids every night.  Then the illness strikes us.  We feel like junk already from being on the front lines, and then we have to deal with the flu ourselves. It's like a double whammy.  By the time the illness hits mothers, the house is completely barren and totally out of Sprite, soup, Kleenex, and crackers. We must survive on stale sugar cookies, leftover re-fried beans, Capri Suns, and toilet paper.

5. Whenever my kids get a yucky virus, I can't help but thank God that we live in the age of Ibuprofen, and Tylenol.  I always think of what life would be like without those priceless inventions.  Could you imagine how tough it would be to see your children suffer for days with fevers, wondering if they would live or die? I can't fathom it.

6. My children only vomit after drinking red Gatorade, or some other carpet staining substance.  They never get sick after drinking Sprite.  They also like to throw up on all of their bedding approximately five minutes before bedtime, causing a mad dash to remake the bed with mismatched blankets from the linen closet while their "real" sheets get a late night washing.

7. Whenever the living room has been converted into a M.A.S.H. unit, and the couches are changed into sick beds, and there are vomit catch buckets at each couch, and the coffee table is littered with cups, straws, and Kleenex... and I'm wearing my hair in a bun, and I have Vix vapor Rub on my nostrils, and I'm wearing my husband's sweatpants and Cabela's sweatshirt....then, and ONLY then, will I get several unexpected visitors knocking at my front door at various times throughout the day.  No one comes over to visit when the house is clean, and my hair and make-up are amazing, and I have my favorite candle lit and wafting through air for ambiance. I want to post a skull and crossbones flag in my front yard that says, "KEEP OUT!" whenever I'm sick.

But, you know what?  Five minutes after I have cleaned up the third pile of red Gatorade vomit from my youngest child, and I'm at the end of my rope, and I think I can't possibly go on another second, and I've endured 3 full days of nursing children back to health, and I'm running a 101 degree fever, and my nose is raw and puffy from blowing it into toilet paper and assorted napkins from fast food restaurants, and I feel as if I've been left for dead..........my knight-in-shining armor surprises me by pulling into the driveway, arriving a full day earlier than scheduled.....and all is right with the world again.

P.S. I'm fully aware that this post is filled with run-on sentences. I don't care. Whenever I get passionate about something, I write in run-ons.  It's one of my many flaws.