If it’s 2009, it must be Scarlet Fever…

Or “Just Another Sunday Night In The E.R.”

That’s right, while the rest of the world is in a panic over Swine Flu, our little man brought the scourge of the nineteenth century home with him from day care.

What started out as peckishness and irascibility Saturday morning progressed with lightning speed to exhaustion, a soaring fever and full-body rash by Sunday afternoon.

We’ve been down this road before with our young ‘un and knew that it was better to get him to the E.R. too soon than too late, but we were still taken aback by the doctor’s casual diagnosis of Scarlet Fever. WTF?? Didn’t medicine lick that one sometime last century, we wondered?

Yes and no, it turns out. Yes, if you catch it in time; no if you don’t. Being the journeyman parents that we have become, we easily caught the sonofabitch in time.

That didn’t mean The Boy had to like it, though. As soon as we got to the E.R., the complaining began. Which complaints mostly consisted of a deep, abiding desire to be taken home. What a chip off the old block. All hell is breaking loose inside his young body, we’re steps away from the people who can cure him, but all he can think about is getting home, home, HOME!



I’m happy to report that we resisted his repeated entreaties, the fever passed overnight and he should be ready to ship back out to day care by Wednesday or Thursday. The Missus worked from home yesterday (see Killer Kite video, below) to co-parent him through the beginning of his (speedy) recovery and a lovely time was had by all.

So, hats off to you, old dead guy who discovered penicillin. That’s another one we owe you. Now what can you do about all this Swine Flu bullshit…? Because as sure as we have to send The Boy back to day care, he’s bound to come home with whatever’s still going around.