We've all heard the story: Stay-at-home-mom dutifully makes sure her flock gets their flu shots, even if she has to elbow old ladies out of line to get the last dose for her child. In the chaos her busy daily existence, she forgets to get her own flu shot. (Her dr.'s office is too far away and is out of vaccine, the grocery store clinic is also out, the other grocery store only offers shot clinics at the same time as the Girl's soccer game, the wondrousness of Costco overwhelms her and she forgets to get one when she's there...etc.) So, she gets flu. She fights it, she does not succumb, she faithfully and dutifully arises early in the morning, sees her beloveds off to work and school with fresh homemade lunches, does all her regular chores to keep the household running smoothly, has a hot homemade dinner ready when the family returns in the evening. (And if she's a working mom, let's just add 'goes to work' on top of all that, mmmkay?) She then collapses into bed at the end of the evening, melting into a sore sniffling puddle of goo. But she makes sure to set the alarm and feed the cat first.

Yeah.

That's SO not happening here this week.

I did forget to get my flu shot, again, this year. That part is true. The rest of it, for me anyway, is a cruel joke that society has decided to play on us Domestic Goddesses. It has told us that the very fabric of our family's existence will fray and decay if we take a day off. That chaos will reign if the laundry doesn't remain on schedule. That husbands will implode if asked to make dinner and help with homework. That children will be irreparably scarred if they see their mum prone on the sofa with a cup of tea in smelly frayed sweats for three days. Nay; we must soldier on, there are things more important than our minor discomforts.

Well, I'm calling bullshit on that. Okay, maybe it's just me; maybe I'm a huge whiny baby when I get sick, I won't deny that. But I'm putting out the call to all moms who didn't get their shots or who end up with the creeping gamboo that their kids bring home from the germ-factories we call "school":

Be sick. Lay on the couch all day. Ask for help. Eat crappy comfort food and drink hot chocolate and watch reruns of the Office online. Read a no-brainer novel; maybe something from James Patterson or Nora Roberts. Don't shower, wear your most comfy sweats, don't put on makeup or do your hair. Order Chinese delivered. Watch your husband bond with your kids as he tries not to go crazy helping them learn fractions and write a book report about a book about fairies and/or magical ponies.

If the world cannot deal without us, the world will have to hold on and just fucking wait.

I'm going to go get a cupcake and lie down now.