mr rampy is all sick with some sort of fever. He hasn't eaten anything but crackers and water in two days, and his temperature was well over 102 degrees.

I don't know if it is catching, but if it is I'll probably get it. Last night he drooled all over my pillow, and we've been taking our temperatures with the same thermometer (me taking mine so we'd have a baseline normal temperature to use as a comparison...stupid untrustworthy digital thermometers). I was washing the thermometer off between uses, of course, but I'm not so good at that manual labor thing, so who knows if I scrubbed all the germies off.

He stayed home from work today, but I couldn't call him too much to talk because loud noises (like me on the phone, apparently) hurt his ears. When I came home, he asked me immediately to go out and get him some Tylenol, and like two seconds later his mother called to tell me to take him to the emergency room. She'd been looking his symptoms up, and she said he was either teething or had a bad infection. Fun.

He wanted to try the self-medication route first, so I went up to the grocery store and shop-lifted because I was so beside myself with worry. Seriously. One of my purchases (besides the nine different types of soup--they didn't have tomato rice, so I got tomato, tomato noodle, chicken noodle, and chicken rice so he'd have a choice) was a trash magazine, and I was holding it in my arms and forgot to put it on the conveyer belt. I didn't even notice I still had it until I was signing the credit slip, and at that point I just wanted to get out of there. I had been standing in line forever, because all these people cut in front of me, including this girl in sock feet who was carrying her roller blades and purchasing a large sack of ice, three ace bandages, and several of those icy-hot bag things. I guess she was having a good day too.

We ended up going to the emergency room anyway, just for kicks, so now we've probably both been exposed to ebola and TB on top of everything else. I just wanted an expert opinion on whether he should be on an antibiotic (not that I believe in prescribing antibiotics right and left and breeding up strains of super-resistant bugs, mind you), and I do feel better that the triage nurse didn't seem to think that his kidneys would be exploding any time soon. By the time she saw us his fever seemed to have broken (probably thanks to the Tylenol), so I'm hoping he'll be feeling better in a couple days.

So he can nurse me.