The best laid plans...

Sophie came down to breakfast this morning, took a sip of her orange juice, and dissolved into tears. Our first thought was that something had happened at last night's party to upset her - but she said not. And when she threw up a few minutes later, we realised she was ill. (We're insightful like that). Steve only had to go into college for the first half-hour of the day, so he looked after her for the morning. He's a sweet boy, I must say. I'd been going to go to the work Christmas lunch, but when the room started spinning around me when I was teaching the first lesson I realised I was sick too. I managed to get through the morning's teaching, then walked home (veeeerrry slowly) and climbed into bed with Sophiepie. Ugh. No work Christmas party, and no trip to Ikea tonight. Think we might reschedule my birthday too - I want to go ice-skating and considering I can't even walk properly at the moment, that's clearly not an option. Unless I wake up tomorrow feeling perfect again... Bobby's being awfully sweet, has brought us dinner in bed, and my computer, and paracetamol ... I do have a very nice family.