Today was Day Two of Sick? Not sick? Sick? Not Sick? wherein my mission was detect even the tiniest of fevers. Not that I would ever lie about the health of my kid, but if I had spotted so much as 98.7 on a thermometer, Alexis' little butt was going to the doctor's office. Period. Even if I had to "misread" the thermometer as I reported to the on-call nurse so that there was no waffling about the necessity of the trip.

Of course, since I had the thermometer handy and I was doing my best to impersonate a helicopter parent, I was greeted with a child who was literally bouncing off the walls. LITERALLY. Apparently if you make a kid stay indoors for a couple of days, she will start vibrating. Like, wooooah. She. was. nuts. Even the Bulldog was freaked out and decided to hide in the basement so that no vibrating kids knocked her unconscious.

And then came the time for me to leave. As in, out of town. As in, I needed to leave Mr. Husband home alone with the vibrating preschooler for two days. And guess what! Go ahead, guess!

Her damn fever returned.

Just like that, the poor kid started saying, "I don't feel so good" and laying around on the couch and putting off more heat than a cup of Starbucks coffee. All it took was for Mr. Husband to pull into the driveway and me to grab my suitcase. It was already past hours for the doctor's office and well past the point of return for my trip.

So now I'm sitting in the Pittsburgh Airport and waiting to board a flight while my poor husband gets to deal with a sick kid. All by himself.

Godspeed, Mr. Husband. Godspeed.

(Yes, she's riding her bike in our dining room. Why? Because SHE CAN.)