Thursday, December 15, 2005
the diarrhea jackpot...not the kind of jackpot you want to hit
It's finals week for me and Ryan--that means mountains and mountains of work to grade. So Ben has decided to not sleep all week long. He's been getting up at regular intervals at night, either with a cough, or, most recently, explosive diarrhea. Last night was a diarrhea fest. We went through two sheets, two pairs of sweatpants, two pairs of footsie pajamas and two onesies. Each of us had diarrhea on our hands and clothing. Ben was screaming and trying to grab his red, bumpy groin as we attempted to plaster Desitin all over the scene of the crime. We are tired. We have mountains of work to grade. If I wasn't claustrophobic and scared of insects, I'd dig myself a tunnel deep enough so I couldn't see or hear anything, and I could just lay there in the ground and sleep. And poor baby Ben has a rash all over everything, a weird appetite, and an angry soul. I guess he figures if he's not happy, nobody will be happy.