. . . is this. We're all sick, and taking turns snuggling under the ripple blanket as well as the mishmash of comforters, throws and other blankets we've all managed to drag to the living room from the nooks and crannies of our home. Baby seems to be dealing the best followed by her older brother who had it first. Now it's Mr. Maricucu and I sounding like a lung played version of dueling banjos and the youngest taking an uncharacteristic nap on the couch all afternoon.