Um, what the hell is this upper respiratory death that is going around? We've all had it and the kids and I can't seem to kick it. Wildman's little nose has run like a faucet for about two weeks, I feel like a truck hit me and am single-handedly supporting the Tylenol Sinus industry, and Supergirl didn't even eat dinner last night she was so tired and run down. Then, about 2 am Wildman woke up and cried and had a hard time going back to sleep. I started singing to him, and I was so tired I was screwing up the words to "You Are My Sunshine".
This can end anytime now.