The Best Kid in the World...is MINE!!!

Ok, I have had this raging headache for going on two weeks now and it has finally culminated in my brains slowly leaking out of my ears. Seriously, why is it necessary to breathe, that $#@% hurts, also my own voice bounces off of my brick solid sinuses and ricochets around my skull like a bullet on a mission. So I have been barely breathing for 3 days and also communicating with my three year old in a very limited range of grunts and sighs.



Why does Michal still have a headache? WHY hasn't she seen a doctor? Isn't she on a decongestant or something? Answers.... because she has the worst sinuses on the planet, because the ya-hoo doctors on this sand spit won't give her antibiotics until she is loosing her brains out of an orifice on her head and because they (decongestants) don't work and only prevent her from sleeping. However I am thinking that now at maximum suffering the Doctors will relent and give me antibiotics, that or they will see the Dark Side of the Moon, if ya know what I mean.
My kid is so great because.... I have been laid low by this and Les has (of COURSE) been on duty and it has been the two of us. This child has successfully entertained herself for 2 and a half days. She knows that I am sick, and she made me a get better basket all lined with pretty paper and stuffed with candy and her art work. Whenever I roll over in bed, she has exchanged the stuffed animals again so I get to visit with them all. Sometimes she is there in the bed, checking the heat on my hot compress and stroking my face gently. She has, uncomplainingly eaten frozen fish sticks and tater tots for two nights in a row. What more could a Mama ask for?
Today, I decided to repay her kindness and haul my carcass out of the house for her sake. We went to Subway for a late lunch ("Subways" is her new favorite place to eat), then off to the park to play for awhile and then home to meet up with Papa for the evening. Hey I even managed to get multi-syllabic on her tiny butt so I am feeling like a martyr and no one will ever full comprehend my sacrifice because there was air outside, lots of it, and sunshine and then people, and it all hurt so bad.
Off to the Quacks tomorrow because my child needs a Mama not a lump that moans and grunts.
I will state here that Les has been home every evening and plays all evening with Bean, then he cooks a dinner for his miserable wife( even though he eats at the station) and pretends to be interested when I describe the 55 ways in which my head experienced pain that day. He has also been taking the trash out, doing light cleaning and attempting to help my sorry self out with the huge mountain of laundry that has accumulated. So I also have the best husband in the world.
I guess that makes me the luckiest woman in the world?