Unfortunately, I can't blame Michael Moore for this Sick-O

So I've got a sick child. Again.

About two weeks ago, we had Kaitlyn in the hospital with croup. Normally not an illness that gets you admitted to a pediatric ward bed, but for us it did. For two nights.

Then, after a week of good health, Kaitlyn came home early from daycare on Friday with a little fever. Nothing major, but even the smallest fever these days sets off an alarm at our daycare louder than a Metallica concert. Something about a sick pig or something.

By the time Saturday night hit, we had a 21-month-old with a five-alarm fire in her forehead. And the snot. She was all-out sick. By the way, you're welcome for that little trip down memory lane.

After a not-so-pleasant night sleeping with the wife, the daughter and the dog, leaving me with all one-eighth of the queen bed, we were able to squeeze an appointment into the doc's office on Sunday afternoon.

The long and short, Kaitlyn's sick. Shocker there. But then the doctor began devising a plan to combat the illness, one that involved a combination of OTCs and prescription meds that would make some people very jealous.

So here we are, Monday morning. After a rough early part of the morning, we're running around like we're Usain Bolt. Guess the drug cocktail is working.