wife flu

Hubby is out, looking all cool in his new clothes from UK. His flu has got miraculously better since our return - well, since he went shopping for new clothes, actually. I have vowed loyally not to call it 'man flu'.

Twin 1 and I now have Twin flu and wife flu respectively. Twin 2 is also just getting over her Twin flu (which was pretty horrible for her, but did ensure that she slept for almost the entire journey back from the UK - always a silver lining, I say), although keeps complaining of copycat symptoms to Twin 1 when she feels attention is shifting even millimetres away from her.

I wasn't so incapacitated by the virus that I couldn't make it to my hair appointment this afternoon (I thought that sitting in a chair reading last month's OK was probably just as good as being on my sick bed in any case), so I now look like Storm from X-men, apparently, but having never seen the film, I'm not sure if that's true. I think I look like Cruella deVil (and sometimes I feel a bit like her as well).

Anyhow, my hair might look ok, but I don't feel okay. I feel achy and grumpy and the whole thing has been compounded by an evening of fruitless and expensive calls to the flydubai call centre in Dubai to try to pay for our xmas hols (I know, get back from one holiday and immediately plan the next, it's a bit sad, really - we should just be happy in the here and now, blah, blah). After spending all blooming night on the phone, my card was finally declined. Bummer. So we may not be going to Dubai for Xmas after all. And I don't care. They can keep their wonderful sandy beaches, water parks, aquariums and shopping centres for all I care (oh, all right, I do care a little bit).

Son is wondering around aimlessly jet-lagged and awake, even though its about two hours past his bed time. I have just dispatched him to have milk and bananas, as I really ought to try natural sleep aids first. Will probably resort to Piriton shortly (for me as well - I was still wide awake at one in the morning today, and not feeling remotely tired now, just ill and irritable).

I've been meaning to tell you about the scary episode I had with a motorcyclist on the way back from the meat shop, but my weary virus-ridden fingers simply cannot muster up the energy to type it all up (also, although it was a frightening at the time, it's not all that dramatic in hindsight, so maybe I won't bore you with it at all).

Right, off to dispense Piriton now. Take care xx