Ah, that wonderful feeling when you start a five-hour car trip with the youngest throwing up in the Cheetos bag. Oh, did I say five-hour? Somehow that magically became three and a half. It’s amazing how ruthlessly parents can drive when we’re trying to get a kid somewhere nice and familiar to be miserable.
I don’t know what happens next. I might have this; I might not. It’s all up to the luck of the draw and my immune system. I am rather grateful that we have tomorrow off, though. Gives us a buffer.