Quarantine

I have never been a germaphobe. Until now. We took Annie out to dinner on Friday night and since she's such a big girl and is so good at sitting up, I figured we would try our hand at letting her sit in the high chair. As this was sort of an impromptu idea, I didn't have any disinfecting wipes with me. No matter, those things are for people with OCD and trips to Mexico.

Look at me, Mom! I am so big! I am so excited that you can't even see my hands. You might miss it when I rub them all over this disease infested chair.

If this isn't the saddest picture you have ever seen, then you have seen some sad sh!t. This was AFTER we were able to clean the goopey-goo out of her eye enough so she could open it. I may or may not have cried when I first saw it. We were able to get in to see Dr. Eaton who gave us drops that had things clearing up by bedtime. Despite her pathetic look in this picture, she didn't really seem bothered by it. I think here she is just wondering why Mommy is wailing about the 3rd world conditions at a certain Irish Pub in Webster Groves. I am still debating on contacting the CDC.

This is after two rounds of drops. I would like to take a moment here to comment on the procuring of the drops and issue a stout congratulations to Schnuck's pharmacy for making the bumbling half-witted employees of Walgreens look like efficiency experts. Really, Express Scripts???

We were all good by this morning. The lid is a little pink but other than that, the ebola of the eye seems to have left the building. Rick and I are now armed with the strongest disinfecting wipes we could find and should have minimal amounts of skin left on our hands from the constant washing and sanitizing we have been and will continue to do in an effort to never have to see that unbelievably sad face again.