"Mommy, more itchies."
The youngest is reclining on the loveseat next to the front window, pointing at his calf. Indeed I can see little ones that were not there thirty minutes ago.
"I'm sorry, baby. Let me put some lotion on them. Don't scratch. You watch TV now."
So not me to turn on the TV when the weather is glorious, but I'm desperate to keep his mind off the itching that began just after lunch. I spend the afternoon alternating rubbing lotion with making logistical phone calls, explaining to stunned voice after stunned voice that we've been to the ped's, that in fact one can contract chicken pox even after two vaccines, no no, I didn't know this either, that supposedly it's milder than it would be, though watching new crop after new crop sprout up, it doesn't seem mild enough.