And of course the chickenpox never materialised. Not in any of the babies supposedly exposed to the infected one. So much for contagious diseases.
So, instead of sweltering in overheated Italy we sat and watched the UK slowly sink under the greatest deluge since the last one.
Oh well.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
That's torn it....
We've had a very easy ride with the lad so far, but this week we got a timely reminder of the perils - and responsibilities - of parenthood.
Our summer holiday to Italy has been scuppered by the lad potentially succumbing to Chickenpox. Given the virulent nature of the disease and the fact that he was in close proximity to a baby who has now developed it at precisely the most contagious time to be in contact, it's a fair bet I reckon. But of course the spots don't come out straight away, so we don't know for sure - that's the Catch 22.
And that's where it all unravels. You see, we could fly out there if the spots haven't come out, but then if they did while we were on holiday we'd be stuck there or face a thousand mile trip back in our hire car. Or if he gets spotty beforehand we'd be barred from the outward flight anyway. And all of this pales into insignificance compared to what's best for the lad, which is to be at home if he's suffering, not in a strange - and hot - place.
So that's that - no Tuscany for us. Still, at least the weather in the UK has improved a bit - we even went a whole day without it pissing down yesterday.
And it's not like there's nothing to do in London in summer. And I still get a week without having to traipse into this bloody office.
So all's unwell that ends well...sort of.
Our summer holiday to Italy has been scuppered by the lad potentially succumbing to Chickenpox. Given the virulent nature of the disease and the fact that he was in close proximity to a baby who has now developed it at precisely the most contagious time to be in contact, it's a fair bet I reckon. But of course the spots don't come out straight away, so we don't know for sure - that's the Catch 22.
And that's where it all unravels. You see, we could fly out there if the spots haven't come out, but then if they did while we were on holiday we'd be stuck there or face a thousand mile trip back in our hire car. Or if he gets spotty beforehand we'd be barred from the outward flight anyway. And all of this pales into insignificance compared to what's best for the lad, which is to be at home if he's suffering, not in a strange - and hot - place.
So that's that - no Tuscany for us. Still, at least the weather in the UK has improved a bit - we even went a whole day without it pissing down yesterday.
And it's not like there's nothing to do in London in summer. And I still get a week without having to traipse into this bloody office.
So all's unwell that ends well...sort of.
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