Okay, little germs, this is mumma talking and I mean business so listen up!
I’m talking to all of you: germs, lurgies, ouchies, itchies, scratchies, hurties, headaches, earaches, back aches, sore throat germs, pains in general and pains in the butt.
You are hereby given notice that you are not welcome in our home. Not anywhere on or in my Bubba, nowhere near me, and none of your cousin friends the doggie germs.
I’m quite serious about this.
You are being evicted and you are not being given 21 days notice. You need to be gone from my home – and from the beings of all of my loves – by the time I get home from work today.
Seriously, a girl needs her beauty sleep. At this stage, her mumma is going to need surgery to reverse the damage you germs have done in the past couple of months. I’m pretty sure it all started with your friends the toddler learning to swim pool germs. If I think back, that’s about the time when the runny noses, temperatures, sore ears and throats really kicked in.
Bubba has had enough. The poor little love looks like she’s been in the wars. She has been – the germ wars. It’s tough to see who has the bigger bags under their eyes – Bubba or me, and that’s saying something, because I look like I’m carrying around a set of Louis Vuitton travel trunks under my eyes.
I’m starting to look my age. And that is not acceptable. In any way, shape or form.
You have been warned. Don’t try me. A tired mumma is not a happy mumma.