I have been sick all week. It sucks because I can take a sick day from work but not from being a parent. And with the way our schedules happened to work out on Tuesday, DP had to pick up Claire from school at 1 and I had to watch her for the afternoon at home. It wasn't so bad for me, I just felt bad for her. We were basically tied up in my room, luckily she had my old wallets and purses to play with. And casino cards, man, talk about a solid 8 minutes of entertainment. At one point, she was experimenting throwing things down the steps and I was telling her what other things to grab and toss from my coveted spot under the covers. She was so sweet and playful too. I tried to get her to go in the playroom, but she made it halfway down the hall before running back to my room and jumping on the bed screaming, "Mosters coming!" with a big smile on her face.
On Wednesday morning, we got up and got ready early so we could go get McDonald's breakfast for DP. It was his birthday after all. And, being sick, I hadn't even gotten him a card, so fast food pancakes had to do. We got to the drive thru and I asked Claire if she wanted to bring Daddy breakfast in bed, and she said, "Yeah. Happy Birthday. Coke!" I told her we couldn't get him a coke but we could get an OJ. So then I said, "Do you want anything?" and she said, "Yeah! Um...chicken." No Claire, you get a hashbrown.