Germs, germs everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. I was doing well today - keeping up with four little hands, plus two of my own. First stop - the pediatrician's office so Jonathan could have his 4 year well visit. We washed our hands twice there, and my aversion to germs must be rubbing off on Jonathan somehow - he was fussing at Matthew to get away from the toys in the waiting room. "Don't get germs, Matthew!"
After the (extended) doctor's visit, we were off to Jerry's Subs and Pizza, because Jonathan was an angel at the doctor's office, and I told him he could pick where he wanted to eat. He wanted pizza, so off we went. Another round of wipes. Those same 4 little hands, the table, the back of Jonathan's chair, and a good wipedown of Matthew's high chair. Yes, MOM - we're doing good, we're doing good.
Off to pick up the dog at the groomers. On the way, we stopped to say hello to Daddy at his office because he had to leave early this morning and nobody got to say hello. A few minutes of chit-chat in the parking lot, and then we were going to be on our way. But wait! Jonathan had gotten out of the car to give Mark a "big hug and big kiss" and somehow managed to get his fingers black. "I need a wipe, Mommy!" Out comes my pack of wipes, yet again. Take care of that mess, everyone buckled in. Let's pick up the dog. No surprises there, but Jonathan again smears all over everything: door handles, countertops, you name it. Oh well, we're on our way home now - I think we made it. Yeah, right.
Out on the road, driving, kinda busy traffic. A voice from the backseat. "Oh, hand is dirty. Mommy. MOMMY. WIPE!" Ummmm - sorry buddy, Mommy can't get a wipe right this second, I'm driving. Heavy sigh from the backseat. "Oh well, guess I'll just have to lick it...."