Correct me if I'm wrong - go ahead...everyone else does - but, when a person wakes up, suddenly...say, sometime in the middle of the night...to strange sort of beastly sounds...similar with what I believe one would hear...when being chased down by a pack of wild dogs...well, I would venture to guess that most people would reach for something...say, like a shoe, nail file or clothes hanger...anything...that one could use as a make-shift weapon?

Nope, not if you've got kids - especially, if there sick - because you already know that...

[clears throat]

...THERE IS NO FIGHTING THE CREEPING CRUD!

It is a drool-drenched beastie - residing in your child's ears, nose, throat and/or respiratory system - relentless when it attacks and mostly comes out at night.

Some people, however, never learn.

Especially at this time of year, I crack open the windows (just a little) disinfect the heat vents (stupid forced-hot-air!) and hunt down the dust bunnies (you know, the clumpy-killer-kind) in a valiant effort to fend off the phlegm and avoid any and all things ending in "itis."

Then, I go and do something totally bone-headed...um...like, accept a birthday invitation to one of those party places (read: ginormous germ factories) two weeks before Christmas!?!

Oh - why are you looking so surprised - I should've known better...I know...but, it was Mini-Me's first ever "official" party invitation and she was so excited and...well, I'm a pinhead!

Okay!?!

Fast-forward to 2:00 a.m. (this morning) about the time when the dogs began to bark, the phlegm started to fly and all hell breaks loose.

[throws kid over left shoulder and runs to kitchen sink]

"That's it...don't fight it...let it out, Mini-Me...OMG!..."

[sound censored in recognition of joiners]

"...okay...good girl...I think you're all...OMG!..."

[Linda Blair would be proud]

"...phew!...glad that's over...that's a whole lot of...SON-OF-A-BITCH!..."

[Linda Blair's a wussy!]

"...um...is that all you got!?!"

Mini-Me wheezed, once or twice, before finally catching her breath. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, coughed once, placed her hands on her hips and answered less...well, dog-like.

"Phew...thanks, I needed that...what's for dinner!?!"

The creeping crud - yes, she is a BITCH - it ain't got nothin' on Mini-Me!

Today, well - having three out of four of my kids home sick and driving each other absolutely crazy with boredom - count me at a loss for finding my Christmas mojo, for sure.

Perhaps, tomorrow will be better.

In the meantime, there's still 5 more sleeps 'til Christmas, don't count us out just yet. I'm used to planning last-minute and could always put-together one heck of a canine chorus.

[spraying Lysol before passing out the jingle bells]

Bark like a dog for mommy, 'mkay!