i swear this will be shorter than the last few

We? Are still unwell. We have added various mung conditions that involve boogers and coughing and serious ear pain to the pink eye. Meh.

Also? It has occurred to the short people that the bedroom doors lock. And this is unfortunate, because I'm not really good with doors, and these locks are the supersweet kind that unlock when you poke something thin and sharp through the tiny hole and I can't even unlock a regular door with a regular key on a normal day, let alone one when my head is so clogged with the vile boogers that I have wicked vertigo.

And this, my friends, mah shares (I know the Frenchish language), is where I have found myself for the past two days. The Mister wrote about it yesterday, and I will recap.

I fell asleep on the couch whilst the shorties watched Sid the Annoying Laughter Science Kid and His Annoying Friends Who Also Have Annoying Laughs And So Do His Parents And Grandma. Miss O was being helpful and put HB to nap. Even changed the diaper, that's how crazy helpful she was trying to be and trying is the operative word there. She and Wee Man told HB goodnight, and locked and closed the door. HB can do many things, but open a closed door is not one of his mad skillz. Eventually he fell asleep.

I worked for half an hour to get the door open. I decided to poke my own pink eyes out with the knitting needle I was using, and go back to napping.

And, as it happens, HB woke up. With a blazing ear condition and fever. And I could not unlock the door and he was distraught, and no amount of happy meds were helping me not have stress in me because my baby was locked in a room and the only coordinated person in the house was at work and my baby was screaming, and reaching his little fingers under the door and touching my toes and calling MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA I WANT TO HUG MY MAMAMAMAMAMA.

I put the older children in time out until HB was out of his room. They were crying. It was an ugly scene.

Also? I learned that hinges go on the inside of a room, not the hall side. Just file that one away in case you need it one day.

Eventually, I was able to unlock the door, and the poor fella cried for another hour or so until I was clever enough to offer him a popscicle. That fixed him.

And today?

The little jerks locked and closed the door again. This time, nobody was inside the bedroom. Only all the diapers and wipes. And HB had completely filled his drawers, the diaper drawers, not the furniture, with quite the wretched load.

Blahblahblah, door opened, butt wiped, returned sick self to sofa.

The end.

P.S. Is it February yet?