'Same Time, Next Year'

If you remember that 1978 Alan Alda movie, you will recall that George met his mistress [Ellen Burstyn] every year in Mendocino for a tryst. That's basically what we have working -- a Memorial Day weekend tradition that is more scourge than scandal, one that visits every year -- same time, same place.

Last year, forever imprinted on my consciousness, Harry hurled on me as we stood on the Arlington Cemetery Metro platform, depositing vomit from neck to ankles, mine. The horrified looks I got from travelers, mostly childless, were priceless.

This year we've been visited by a family-shared respiratory chest plague. It has morphed over the last week but has left us with a viscous cough that makes visiting with friends dicey lest we be strung-up as Typhoid Marys.

So far we have missed the last day of preschool, one birthday party, one swim lesson, one trip to Gymboree, a family trip to the pool and now, a much-anticipated Memorial Day BBQ. Sigh.

Other than a cough that makes sleep tough, everyone feels fine at this point, mostly fine, aside from a little isolated. Yesterday, to celebrate Memorial Day we took the tots to Alexandria's National Cemetery (the oldest in the nation), where we sat in the broiling sun, coughing, watching a VFW presentation. As it happens we were sitting in front of the graves of three men who drown in the Potomac in pursuit of John Wilkes Booth. Creepy. Cool. Being a bit under the weather really suits Harry who was a model citizen, cuddling with me on the grass, consenting to whisper, until the 30-minute event was over. He stood when Taps was played and then, once the coast was clear, gleefully slid on his stomach down a steep grass slope.

Once home, trying to figure out how to spend our self-exile from the night's BBQ, we set up the sprinkler and let Harry run amok. Charlotte was dubious, and instead played with the bubble maker, "singing" a fine rendition of "Wheels on the Bus" using just one word for lyrics: "bubbles." I got it on video, and when I get my act together grandma, I will upload it. (I am ashamed that my children will have less video of their childhood than I did...how is that possible?)

In the meantime, we are happy to be together in our collective germiness. Harry WILL be better by the first day of summer camp (tomorrow) or I will give up editing and apply to med school).

We hope it was a happy Memorial Day for all. We miss you....really.