Today I went where no germaphobe should never, ever have to go. EVER.
The "sick" side of the pediatrician's office.

For those pure and naive souls who don't know (of which I'm eternally envious), there's a "well" side and a "sick" side of pediatrician offices. The well side is for those cute little rascals who are just there for their regularly-scheduled check-up.

The sick side is a whole different story.

I never had to frequent the sick side.
Until today.
Before, I would throw a blanket over Ella, race past that room with my breath held and my hand shielding my pure baby from the evilness that lurked within until I reached the "good side". John Travolta had less coverage than my baby.

Today I walked in, head hung low in shame that my baby had to join those pesky little contaminated buggers. We had become...ONE OF THEM. And I was sure that there was no way MY baby was as sick as those hacky, sneezing, sniffling other kids in the room. I mean my baby looked cute - smiling at everyone in her matching pink and brown trendy running suit and cute headband. The kid next to me had a runny nose.

And he was picking at it.

And wiping it on his sleeve.

And then coughing in my general direction.

I almost had heart failure when Ella leaned over to touch the arm of the chair. Luckily, I've learned a few moves from Ninja Cocaine Kitty over the past few months and we were able to divert a full-on viral spreading that would've amounted to orange-level status catastrophe.

I was amazed that almost every parent that came in let their child run over to the free incubator of germs - also known as the kids' play table. I watched in equal amounts of horror and fascination while the kids hacked and coughed on each other, their hands, the table and then swished it all around with the toys. Heck, I sat there touching as little as I could all the while holding Ella's arms in a straight jacket position.

The low point of "The Room" came when Ella started communicating with a little boy in the hello-wave-smile-bat-my-very-long-eyelashes-jabber-some-gibberish kinda way she has. The little boy took this as an invitation (and it might've been in baby speak) to say, "Mammaaaaa, *sniff* I wannnnnaaaa *cough* go touch the prreeeeettttty *hack-hack* baaaaaaby!" Just about then a voice that sounded eerily similar to my own screamed, "PLEASE-DON'T-LET-HIM-NEAR-MY-PERFECT-BABY-TO-SPREAD-HIS-GERMS-ALL-OVER-HER!"

Thankfully it was just the voice in my head.

We gave him a little wave (or more like shoo) as we watched his mom drag him away after his name was called.

Home schooling is looking better and better.


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