Sick Day

You know, there are many things I enjoy about having children, but there's nothing quite so special or endearing as waking up at 12:30 in the morning to a darling 4-year-old with wild hair saying, "Mommy, I'm yucky."

Ah, yes. The simple understatements of the unpretentious child. When she said yucky, it was much like when a child will screw up his face and say I don't feel good and then will promptly barf macaroni and cheese on the carpet.

In this case yucky was a succint description for her condition, which was unpleasant. In short, a brief illness that has been working its way through our family seemed to have pounced upon her in the night, and a whole new definition of bodily fluids were worked into her hair, pajamas and bedding.

I eased her into the bathroom and removed her clothing with my fingertips. At first I wet a washcloth but quickly assessed that a washcloth was not going to do it. "Maya," I said, "you're going to have to take a bath."

"But it's night," she said.

Indeed. Which was probably why, after I removed her Pull-Ups, I did not take care to immediately place them in the proper receptacle. Which, in turn, is why my darling daughter then stepped in their contents. Thank God she was already in the bathroom.

For those out there who have not yet experienced the thrills of child rearing, what are you waiting for? How can you justify going another moment without experiences like these?

Oh, and make sure you have to be up at 5am for work. Please. You wouldn't want to cheat yourself.