Having sick children is no fun.

My little guy has been fighting a cold for the last two days. He's been sniffing and snorting all over the place.

Then my oldest boy got sick. We're talking Linda Blair sick [I went looking for a picture but then thought better of it]. When I got home my daughter met me at the door looking like Alma.

Having sick children is bad enough. Having sick children with a sick wife is worse.

So I get dinner for myself and the little guy. He's quite happy, just with a stuffy nose. But he only eats mashed potatoes. The girl gets Ramen Noodles. The big boy eventually eats a muffin. Melissa also gets Ramen.

I'm like the king of Ramen. I'm thinking of writing a cookbook just about noodles. Maybe a cooking show. I could call it Everybody Loves Ramen.

Anyway, I'm Super-Dad last night. I wash the dishes - actually wash them, not just put them in the dishwasher, feed and play with the little guy, and put them all to bed.

Except Isaac. He screams as soon as I put him in bed.

So I sing a song. Then two. Then another.  More screaming.

Back down stairs we go to sit in the rocking chair. I watch a little TV while he just curls up with his head on my shoulder. I'm watching something I've never seen before which is fairly easy to do since I almost never watch TV. Surprise, surprise! It's a crime drama. Those seem to be everywhere these days.

Finally he falls asleep and I can put him in bed. But now it's ten o'clock and I'm not about to start doing anything because I just know what's going to happen tonight. You do to if you have any children.

Sure enough, little guy comes over to our bed about 2 am. Melissa puts him in bed but he doesn't lay still. He's flopping all over the place. Finally I pick him up and that's when I feel just how hot he is.

So down stairs we go to get the meds. He doesn't like the stuff we have for his stuffy nose so he starts crying at me because that's what he thinks he's getting. Little does he know that we've secretly replaced his nasty Cough and Cold medication with Folger's Crystals. That is to say, he's getting the Tylanol knock-off.

They must put baby crack in this stuff because he loves it and asks for more. Now I know why the label says "Keep out of the reach of children and street thugs." You've never seen medicine disappear into a child so fast.

I tried to get him to go to sleep in our bed but that was just awful. So back down to the rocker we go. At 3 am I'm trying to calculate how many miles my head has moved back and forth but it's too early and I was never good at word problems. "Given an average speed of 8 inches per second..." I couldn't do it.

He's not quite asleep but his temperature has lowered to "soft candy" so I try putting him back in bed. Zonk.

Whew.

Oh, wait. Now it's time to get up and go to work. I pour a bowl of Vivarin and get on with my day.

Humor me. Now everyone say, "Poor Daddy! What a wonderful job you did."

Ahhhh...