The 6 year old : As he struggled to open the presents in his stocking on Christmas morning we realised he had the Virus of Doom. A temperature and generally lethargic child with a headache and sore throat is no fun on Christmas Day. Calpol gave him the odd high but the rest of the time was spent lying on the sofa. His Christmas bike stood in the playroom looking forlorn for three days. The boy who has to eat every 30 minutes ate once or twice a day.
The 8 year old : The day after Boxing Day the 8 year old woke up throughout the night with night terrors and then announced that she had a headache and sore throat the following morning. Again Calpol was our friend and seemed to bring her round every now and again where she would play her Christmas keyboard super loud. The pan pipe demo version of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ was played so many times that it will forever remind me of the Christmas of Doom. She ate so little over the Christmas period that her skinny jeans are hanging off her.
Me : Just as the 8 year old recovered I got swollen eyes, a sore throat and explosive snots (a technical term) which on closer inspection, with the 6 year old’s LEGO torch proved to be the world’s worst tonsillitis. Due to having wild hallucinogenic moments due to my temperature I was never quite sure when it was safe to have my next dose of medication and spent the following night lapsing in and out of weird dreams involving Vicks Vapour rub and spatulas. Once recovered I bulk bought various vitamins and threw myself into ‘Dry January’ – probably with more gusto than I should have done. Due to all the illnesses in the house I had to go back to the chemist twice between Christmas and New Year for medication. The chemist looked me up and down suspiciously as I asked for Karvol, Lemsips and his biggest bottles of ibuprofen and paracetamol. I am now probably on some ‘Village Drug Abuser Register’.
The Husband : He took to the sofa bed in the 6 year old’s room to escape my hallucinogenic ramblings and my almighty snoring for four nights but then just as I was recovering contracted some sort of flu, first thought to be man flu, but after a week of illness is probably real-proper-like flu. We were supposed to go out on New Years Eve for the first time in eleven years but spent the night wrapped in blankets, sipping Lemsip and feeling sorry for ourselves – I’m not sure if that’s how Prince partied in 1999. The Husband is still not 100% which is reflected in his need to mainline Lemsips and dab Karvol baby drops around his pillow before sleep.
But hey ho, onwards and upwards in 2013. Bring on the 1st of February when I shall be drinking gin again and talking absolute rubbish.