Flying the Flag

It has become a neighborhood joke (in my mind at least), that whenever you see THAT hanging from somebody's porch, it's as good as hanging a QUARANTINE sign on the door. Damp bedding hanging to dry in the sunshine can only mean one thing--the stomach virus. Well, this week, we Maddoxs have been flying our Quarantine Flag boldly. It started with Mary Aplin on our drive home from Dothan Monday afternoon. Yep, disassemble the carseat, wash all parts, and spend hours reassembling and crunching your hands into tiny carseat crevices where they don't fit. Then Pace got sick on Tuesday night and I was up ALL night long with that poor baby whose body seemed determined to rid itself of all her internal organs by the way it was retching her around over and over and over. Last night, the evil visitor came for Jeremiah...guess whose the only one left...guess whose stomach has been feeling unstable for a day and a half. Yep, that's right, me. I am praying that the Lord is going to reward me for ALL the nastiness I have had to clean up, by not making me actually go through it myself. That's what I'm praying, but I'll let you know the verdict soon.