I have fallen ill for the 5th, yes 5th, time in 2009 and am not at all a happy camper. In fact I don't even like bloody camping. The current affliction is a dastardly bad case of Tonsillitis which is just utterly ghastly and required a mercy mission to a NHS Walk-In centre on a Sunday to see a perfectly nice nurse who happened to be totally clueless on medications and Breastfeeding. Oh, and she also had a curious nack of not digesting anything I said to her. Joy.
Thankfully it would appear that The Toddler has escaped this latest lurgy of mine as has The Child. However, The Child did do a rather endearing interpretation of the exorcist the other evening and got himself into such a blinding rage he ended up uncermoniously vomiting. Charming.
The Toddler has decided that the potty is for the weak and i'm most gracious for this as i'm sorry but unless you've potty trained before you will be unable to comprehend the total grimness of the whole sorry affair. She has opted instead to use the big girl toilet. Unfortunately, when the mood strikes she opts to use said toilet a hundred times an hour. This wouldn't be so annoying if she hadn't proven on several occasions that she can actually go allnight dry however she has a rather quaint OCD relationship with washing her hands after using the loo which incurs even more loo visits just to indulge said relationship. Oh to have a downstairs lav. She has been treated to some darling little Peppa Pig knickers yet she'd holding firm for Diego underpants, apparently.
The Husband is as ever strong as a bloody Ox and whining incessantly about wanting his turn to be ill. Never mind 'illness' per se but i'm sure I could arrange an injury, or two, if he persists.