It's only 3:00

5:50am Jillian wakes up. I go in to find that she is still running a fever that I can feel. I tuck her into my bed where she whispers, "Somebody went to work" and I scurry downstairs to find the thermometer and Tylenol.

While downstairs, I see my poor, hard-working husband's lunch bag sitting empty on the counter. His lunch is made and in the fridge in anticipation of a late Monday night arrival home . . . but I completely forgot to pack it up.

5:55am I look at the clock and realize that at this moment he is boarding the bus and that it will head for one more stop in Old Towne. I can make it! I pack the lunch and run upstairs to find Miss Fever. I feed her Tylenol and ask, "Wanna come save the day with me?" "OK! Let's go, Mommy!" As I'm juggling her into the car and wrapping her in blankets she is chanting, "We can do it! Come on!" At this point, she has no idea what is about to transpire.

6:05am We are half a block from the Old Towne stop and I see the bus pass me heading back toward the freeway. We turn around and follow that (thankfully) slow-moving beast until we stop behind it at a red light. In a split second decision, I hop out (in flip flops), run up to the bus, bang on the door with one hand and wave the lunch at the driver with my other hand. She opens the door and knowing that The Professor sits in the first seat at the front, I plop his lunch in his lap, holler "SORRY!", and run back to my car where Miss Fever is cheering wildly, "Mommy! You did it! Who is on that bus?! Do it again!"

6:12am We are back home. I tuck her back into my bed, take her temp (102.3), turn on 101 Dalmations, and get to showering. During my shower, I reflect thus: "Uh, did I just take my child who is feverish out into the cool morning air to chase a bus and then proceed to leave her in the car while I banged on the doors like a lunatic? Will CPS be paying me a visit today? Why did the driver open the bus? Hasn't she seen SPEED??? I could have been a real crazy with a gun instead of a lunch. I probably just humiliated him to no end. What was I thinking???"

7:00am Showered, dressed, and lured back into bed to watch 101 Dalmations with a sick Princess, I answer the phone with a sheepish, "Hello." Apparently, he was proud and not embarrassed. Here is what I can gather of the events post lunch drop:

Driver: That was your wife.
Chris: I hope so.
Several Men all chiming in: Whoa! You have the best wife! My wife would never do that!
(Translation: My wife isn't stupid enough to do that!)

8:10am Camilla, the Department Assistant from the college, emails me and mentions in passing that a husky gentleman stepped on The Professor's walking stick and broke it. The lovely ladies taped it together for him. I go to retrieve the back-up stick . . . also broken. I make calls around and have one on hold for my dad to pick up to give to my mom to bring to The Professor. I leave a message with Chris' voice mail that the situation is handled.

11:07am Chris calls. "I'm done with class for today. I'm taking the 11:40am bus home. There is a hole in my sock and I spilled green tea on my shirt. I'll be home soon." I look over and Jillian has curled up in a ball and fallen asleep on the couch.

11:30am Jillian is awake and having an hysterical coughing fit. We'll try a nap again later.

1:15pm Daddy is home and Jillian is asleep in her bed.

2:30pm I am outside searching in the garage for an art project for a dear teacher friend who emailed in desparate need of it. Can't find it. Give up. Come inside to discover that Jillian is no longer asleep in bed. She must have cried while I was outside. This is what it looks like: