I'm not staring.

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not. I'm looking. My eyes are moving so I'm not staring."

That was Miss 5 and my conversation. Then Miss 4 chimed in.

"Look, look at me, am I staring, is this staring?" *stares at me*

"Yes baby, that is staring."

*laughs hysterically*

Cue Master 3.

"Muuuuuum, look, look, am I stirring?" *makes fingers go around and around in a circle* "That's stirring isn't it mum?? Mum?? I'm stirring too!"

Insanely. Cute. And hilarious.

I made fried rice today. We haven't had it for ages. And we have very little food in the house and it is a great way to use those little bits and bobs in the fridge.

Sometimes the kids are a little hyperactive at meal times. On numerous occasions I have found myself saying "Sit properly" or "Back on your seat" or "Sit on your bottom".

Today was no different.

Although it was a little different.

Because today we had fried rice. And when Master 3 was messing around not sitting properly, he inadvertently tumbled a tad, his hand landed on the edge of the bowl of fried rice and promptly flipped it, such that fried rice rained throughout the entire dining room.

He cried.

I removed fried rice from my eyelid and gave him a hug and explained to him that it was for this very reason that I need for him to sit still at mealtimes.

I probably needed to vacuum anyway.

So we are still all housebound. Diseased. Quarantined. But not for long. At the risk of disgusting everyone, mega pock has finally blown it's lid. And there is a substantial hole in Miss 4's stomach. Substantial.

I don't recall any of my chicken pox being like when I had it all those years ago.

This is, well, it is disgusting.

The kids were in the bath tonight when I saw it. It was like a trail. A trail coming from her belly. Coming from mega pock.

And the trail was blood. Mega pock had given up its fight after Miss 4 drowned it in the bath.

So the trick was how to get Miss 4 out of the bath without her being alerted to the fact that mega pock had exploded and she was now bleeding.

It was never going to go well.

I should have thought to ask Miss 5 to play with Master 3 at that time, for it was she who yelled out, quite spectacularly "Oh my GOD you're BLEEDING!" as I lifted Miss 4 out of the bath.

And then the shudders, the shakes, the gutteral spasms as Miss 4 realised that she was, in fact, bleeding.

I deftly grabbed a tissue and placed it gingerly on Miss 4's stomach, wherein it of course became crimson, which then sent out the waves of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' from all parties in the bathroom.

And so I gave Miss 4 the tissue and told her to hold it there while I dried her and got her to the lounge room.

Mere seconds later we were in the lounge room, she removed the tissue, and insta-chasm. Mega pock had fled the scene and there remained a cavity. A hole. I kid you not it was almost an extra belly button. Well perhaps not quite, but ew. I am so bad with these things and I was gagging just looking at it, knowing that I had to keep my cool so as not to freak out mini chick.

God parenting is hard.

Anyway, long story short, I finally convinced Miss 4 that she wasn't dying, pumped her full of Panadol and antibiotics and sent them all to bed.

They say time flies when you are having fun.

The opposite is equally true.

These past two days I could swear have gone for several months.

And on Sunday, once we get the all clear (oh god please let us get the all clear) we are going home via the supermarket.

I need bacon.