Well, I had The Talk with the kids tonight. All 6 of them. I sat them down and told them, "Remember - either be a doctor or marry one." That way, they won't have to watch one of their children cough her lungs out all night long, again, because they can't get their hands on any codeine cough syrup.
The doctor did prescribe some other cough medicine over the phone, some namby-pamby crap, and I told him, "It won't work. You may have 8 years of med school, but I have 16 years of raising children. Give me the good stuff." No dice.
My lord, I am so pissed off. I really feel sorry for whichever doctor we finally see tomorrow morning.
Am I crazy, or should a sick kid be able to see a doctor the same day that the kid is ill? I do have superpowers, but I am still not able to predict a day in advance that my child is going to be up all night coughing. I'm just not that good. I admit it.
And, in case you think I'm sounding a little insane, you're right. Chronic sleep deprivation will do that to a person. Do you know how long it has been since I have had 4 hours of unbroken sleep? Have you any idea? Prisoners of war are treated better than this.
You know, friends don't let friends blog sleepless. I'm signing off.
(But, oh yes, Larry caught our little rodent friend this morning. And disposed of him. Once again, I am glad that I get to be the helpless female. While he did the dirty work, I hid in the bedroom. Of course, now Larry is suffering from what I call his Hemingway Syndrome - the way he's acting, you'd think he'd bagged a cougar.)