I think I may have mentioned—once or twice—how (not) fond I am of the notion of Daylight Savings Time. Let me assure you that my opinion of the whole clock-changing business is not altered. However, at present I choose not to whine about that because I have something better to whine about: we’re all sick.

Saturday morning we had a gathering of grandparents/aunts and uncles/cousins etc. to celebrate Audrey turning three. It was lovely and delightful and all those things a family gathering ought to be. It was also followed by complete meltdownedness of our immune systems. (A sure sign of a good party, no?) (And yes, meltdownedness is totally a word. I may have just invented it, but that doesn’t make it any less of a word. Or maybe that does make it less of a word. Give me a break, I’m sick.)

By Saturday night we had general malaise and fever; by Sunday morning—well, let’s just say there may have been a fair amount of owing-thray up-ay, if you know what I mean, and now we’re back to fevers and malaise plus coughing all the night long for good measure.

And that’s about all I can say about that, as the words on screen are swimming back and forth before my eyes. I’m going to try to sleep, which will be difficult given that one or more small children will find it necessary to rest their head on my shoulder/arm/elbow in order to stay asleep. Awesome.

To recap: Take your vitamin C. The end.