FFS!? Friday : The bodily fluids edition

Linking up with my vodka buddy DearBabyG for my weekly whine.

And I've totally earnt it this week.

You see, The Feral Threesome have joined together and worked as a team for but one single cause this week: spreading the germs. FFS.

It's like a slow moving Mexican Wave of sneezes and snot in the Parental Parody household.

I am one arm short when the sneezathon and associated snot snorting starts.  As a result, Mstr3 who is usually last, simply wipes his entire face over my stomach.  FFS.

I've developed a nervous twitch and an automatic hand reflex whenever I hear a sneeze - even at night while they're tucked up in their snotty Vicks scented bedrooms.  The sound of a sneeze sends one hand shooting up as if holding a tissue, and the other one over my own mouth as if to protect from airborne germs. FFS.

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Then there's the gastro.  Oh, the gastro.  The instigator of said gastro reads this blog, so I shan't name and shame.  But know this, unwitting instigator, there. will. be. payback.

While snot pours out of one orifice, the liquidized contents of their insides (you're welcome for my not expanding on that description) is coming out of the other two. FFS.

Now, as an adult, you know how hard it is to spew and poo at the same time when overcome by gut churning gastro, right?  The co-ordination required is something that can only be learned from years of experience.  The muscle control in ensuring nothing escapes the back end of business while you're face first doing the front end, it is super human.  Alternatively, some people are blessed with excellent mouth/eye co-ordination, and can sit and manage the back end while also finding room for the front end.  This was #1Hubby's helpful suggestion.

How do you educate and communicate any or all of that to three sick kids under the age of 7? FFS.

At some point, surely they have to run out of bodily fluids to expel Exorcist style, right?  Seriously.  I'm now convinced the little mini-bastards are covertly consuming their body weights in craptastic and stinky stickiness when I'm not looking, just so they can further torture me. FFS. 

If anyone needs me I will be on my hands and knees simultaneously praying to the Vodka Gods for an intervention, and getting high on the fumes of Pine O Clean while de-crapping the crapper.  FFS.