Hate is a strong word.

There are a few things in m life that I truly hate.  Most people that know me would say that I hate a whole bunch of stuff.  While that may be true, the top few is what I was thinking about.

First off, hate is a strong word.  But there are things, not people, that are ok to hate.  Inanimate objects are perfectly fine to hate.  They don't have feelings, a conscience or the ability to fight back.  Windshield wiper chatter drives me up a wall.  (While they may fight back, you have other issues if you loose a round in the ring against a windshield wiper.)  The wrong use of their/there/they're is a big turn on (sarcasm here!!!).  (Grammer is a tough cookie; pay attention in school.)  Driving below the speed limit on a sunny day on a major thoroughfare ranks right up there.  (Some people are have places to go, no matter what time of day it is, and I'm usually one of those people.)  And today I have found another thing to hate; the attitude my sick, helpless child.  Attitude may not be the correct term, but it sure feels like it.  And its not her attitude, it's the cold's.  She is just the vessel.

The dreaded Daycare phone call came today at lunch.  Not the phone call that is about your kids inability to play nicely.  Or the call that your child has been taken away by aliens.  It was the call of the dreaded fever.  The only worse call for a parent is the diarrhea/throwing up phone call.

So the call came,which starts the phone tree of calling her mother, the doctor, a fill in babysitter for her sister, and all other things that need to be taken care of to get your little peanut on the road to recovery.  It turns out that my little angel has contracted a viral cold of biblical proportions, at least that what she would have you believe.  And there is nothing anyone can do to cure this lovely virus.  We can make her more comfortable with ibuprofen/Nebulizer treatments/Benedryl (read, drugs, drugs, drugs to lessen the uncomfortableness), but she is four.  She doesn't understand.  She was just happy she didn't have to get a shot at the doctor's office.  Anyone in their right mind would be miserable in her situation, but most of us have been there before.  We can at least deal with the hand the "Cold" is giving us.  Not so much with my little Goober.  So my wife, Cali and I have a lovely Valentines dinner to the sweet sounds of a four year old whimpering and crying on the couch because she cannot breath/stop coughing/etc.  How romantic!?  Communicating with her is out of the question.  Believe me, we tried.  On can hope she will fall asleep soon and we can all hope tomorrow is better.  Here's hoping.

Which leads to my newest hate.  Yes, she is sick.  Yes she is helpless.  Yes, I am the more rational one (at least this time).  But it breaks my heart to not be able to help, at least in some way, my daughter.  It looks like we both have to ride this one out.  Wish us luck for a speedy recovery, and hope no one else in the house goes viral.  I hate when my kids are sick.  I hate not being able to help them.  I hate viruses.

Hate is a strong word.

Happy Valentines Day.  I'm off to get chocolate for the wife......Yea, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.