Tempting the gods, or, he'll never say THAT again

So this weekend was a bit of a repeat of last weekend:

1) We had a sick daughter and visited the pediatrician. Copious amounts of ibuprofin were consumed.

2) We had a sick cat and visited the veterinarian. Copious amounts of 409 cleaner were used to wipe up cat vomit.

3) Aaaaaaannnnnddd........we didn't get that much sleep. Understatement. HUGE understatement.

M got less sleep than me, because in a fit of absolute generosity he let me sleep in on Sunday AND take a nap. Which greatly helped alleviate the exhaustion I was suffering from being 1) 8.5 months pregnant and 2) getting the crappiest nights of sleep I've had in ages, compliments of crying child and puking cat. (See #1 & #2, above, for details.)

Now, my brain is pretty much addled today because I've been up since 4:30am (see #1, above). But I am pretty sure that sometime this weekend, M commented to me that's he's getting used to this no-sleep business. You know, like it's no big deal. And then, right on cue, we had some of the crappiest nights of sleep in ages.

WOE. We should NOT be tempting the gods like that. I'm betting that right about now, as the afternoon wears on and on and the sky gets dark, that M is really wishing he'd bitten his tongue. Or knocked on wood. You know, something, ANYTHING!, to rebut his nonchalant statement that he could handle no sleep.