Last year I had bronchitis and spent the entire week of Christmas coughing up a lung. I also got tested for the flu on Christmas Eve last year, which involves a nurse sticking a Q-Tip up your nose so far it probably reaches your brain.
Note to self: I don't like things being stuck up my nose. I was not in a good mood last year on Christmas.
This year my mood is better. I'm healthy! People in my family, though, are not.
The Crap is apparently going around. I haven't gotten it yet, and I think I've done a pretty good job of quarantining myself from those who have it.
Except one cute little 11-month old girl.
One of my nieces is sick. I picked her up today and rocked her. I rubbed her back, shushed her whimpers, and told her it she would feel better in a few days.
Sick babies become cuddly when they don't feel good. She laid her head on my shoulder, put her arms around me and fell asleep.
Aww. We were having an aunt-baby moment.
Since she was sleeping anyway, I decided to put her down for a nap. I laid beside her, rubbed her tummy and talked sweetly to her, hoping she'd fall back asleep.
She slapped me in the face five times and stole my glasses from my face.
Oh, well, I guess cute cuddly moment is over.
Oh, well, I guess cute cuddly moment is over.
I don't blame her. That's what I feel like doing when I don't feel good, too.
This kid rocks, by the way.
(This was written yesterday.)
(This was written yesterday.)
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