If I wasn't already feeling like Typhoid Mommy, I am now.
Last evening, I'm going through Ryan's backpack and there's an info sheet on "streptococcal disease has been reported in Room #3." It's yellow, and has all the symptoms (that we are all familiar with by now, haha) on it for strep.
I would feel more leper-ish had I not been told by one of the other Moms that another child had the same thing Ryan did. (You know, that infamous Mom-network of information that we all access whenever there might be something we need to know--and need to know now.) So at the moment, I don't feel like Ryan is patient zero in the epidemic of streptococcal disease, lol. I don't think anyone else has come down with it either.
What is it about having a sick kid that makes normal people go nuts? All of a sudden, the parent that'll let their kid eat a lollipop after it falls into the dirt will whip out the hand sanitizer, rubber gloves, kleenex, and a face mask at the first sign of a sniffle? The same parent that lets the dog lick the face and ice cream cone of their toddler gives you a look that says "you'd better not be sick" just for clearing your throat? And while I advocate letting people know if your child comes down with -oh, I don't know- the plague, I don't always -gasp- call in the CDC every time someone feels a little 'yucky.'
Fevers, sore throats (only because Nolan is Mr Strep), gastrointestinal disturbances (esp. if we've been frequenting the same eating establishments), yeah, you might hear from me. It's only fair to let someone have a heads up, afterall. But anything else, it wasn't us, we washed our hands and didn't touch anything, I swear.
However--I get really annoyed if your child is oozing snot from every pore, and you try to tell me "it's nothing, just a little cold." Don't even breathe on me and step away from the monkey bars, kid. Take that boy home before he dissolves into a puddle of boogers, lady. THAT is only fair too--if you wouldn't want to be around what your child looks like at this particular sick point in time, then for crying out loud, stay home. Playdates can be rescheduled, but my vacation cannot.
Consideration, common sense, certainly that's not too much to ask is it?
Well. I have to go. It's time to go shake up Ryan's little bottle of pink joy.
And the rash? It's clearing up!