David’s better.

But Carmen’s sick.  Of course.

She became cranky this evening, and after a quick stop to the store I realized her cheeks felt a little warmer than usual.  The thermometer said 100.3.

We had just gone to buy some vegetables along with a six-pack of beer and some chips for a friend’s engagement party.  (The invite said bring snacks and drinks, so chips and beer DO count, right?  I mean, you don’t think they actually expected me to make something, do you?) 

We felt so clever:  we bought "Honey Moon" beer for the party.   We don’t drink beer and we had never heard of this particular brewery, but we liked the name on the bottle.  Sometimes I choose restaurants that way and they’re usually pretty good, so, you know, why not?

Carmen may or may not be better by Sunday afternoon.  If she’s not, I call dibs on the beer and chips. 

Or at least the chips.

Cheers.

*

Update, 20 May, Tuesday: 

He wasn’t better.  His fever evolved Sunday into a cough that turned into a cold which still bothers him.  Carmen’s fever took her to a delirium that made her think the ceiling fan threatened to fall on her head and popped like fireworks.  These are long days.