What a man, What a man, What a man, What a mighty good man.......

What a mighty mighty good man......

Are you humming along?
Good. Because I need to tell you about what transpired while Da Bug had me firmly in it's nasty little clutches.


It had begun early Tuesday morning, but I went to open up the Y at 4:45 am anyway, thinking I could muscle my way through my shift. I was wrong -- Da Bug may be microscopic but it is certainly mighty -- and I was stumbling back in the door by 7:00 mumbling incoherently to Mike that I thought I was going to die and that I needed to lay down.

So........
Mike got up with the boys.
Mike made them breakfast.
Mike got Gibson ready for school and packed both their lunches.
Mike drove 30 minutes out of his way to drop Gibson off at school, making him late for work.
Then Mike called in the afternoon to see how I was doing and to ask if I needed him to pick Gibson up from school as well. (The answers were "bad" and "yes, thank you!", respectively.)
Mike left work early and drove 30 mintues to pick up Gibson. Then he called to say that he'd also bought me some Gatorade and would be home to drop it off. He also wanted to tell me that he needed to go back to work because he needed to take care of some staff training, but that he would pick up Landis and take both the boys to work with him so I could get some much needed sleep. So, he drove another 30 minutes home, dropped off the Gatorade, picked up Landis, and turned around to drive an additional 30 minutes back to work. He proceeded to run a staff training, which culminated in him needing to have a very serious talk with his new trainees about the importance of committing to the training process, and that not everyone would make it through -- all while 2 small boys were sitting politely at his side, burping and farting. ("I guess it probably made me seem less intimidating to the trainees" he said later.)

When they got home, Mike fed them dinner. Mike cleaned up the kitchen. Mike got them into the bath, and into their PJ's. Mike read them their bedtime stories, and tucked them into bed. All without ever complaining about any of it. All while I slept -- and occasionally drank some Gatorade.

So if you happen to see Mike, make sure you tell him he's a mighty good man. And tell him you heard it from me.