My Kingdom for Gatorade

When S (aka Doof) came to our house, she brought along with her a head cold. Swell. See the minute cold germs come anywhere near me, they know they will have a home. They decided to stop off with G first to pick up some strength before finding their way to me. Doof is over her cold and G and I are on the mend. Of course, all I want when I have a cold is lemon lime Gatorade and won ton soup. And we are out of Gatorade. And Benadryl. Clearly, someone needs to go to the market tonight and it better not be me.

The bonus to all of this is that I have to be careful with my cold medication intake since I'm nursing. It seems they might all be fine for the baby, but they could cut my milk supply. By half. Eeeeek. After how hard it was get this nursing thing to work properly, I'll be damned if I will take something that will screw it all up. So I'll suffer, at least during the day.

The good news is that Bug hasn't caught it yet.

Here is a totally unrelated note. I told you all that Doof's mom went to New Orleans to help out in a hospital. She sent Doof an e-mail, care of G telling Doof the following things:

1. She got to meet Dr. Phil.
2. She took a helicopter ride over the city.
3. She wanted Doof to know that "the bad men with guns were taken to a small room with bars on it in Baton Rouge."

Given the way number 3 was written, as opposed to "those gun-toting people you heard about on the news are now in jail", how old would you think Doof is? She is 11. But Doof's mom often talks to her like she's a little kid. It's sad.