It had been one of those nights.
I'd had a crappy week, in and out of the doctors' surgery, pouring medication into the kids, mopping brows, and cleaning out sick bowls.
I then caught the lurgy myself (kids are so sharing, right?) and was feeling awful myself.
A little feverish, I was longing for a shower, but had been kept busy supervising Mr 10's shower, rubbing in cream for sore eczema, and getting snacks and drinks.
Miss 8, meanwhile, was feeling better but needed help to wrap a birthday present and write in a card for her friends' party today. (Of course they are better today: It's a weekend!) Cue: A frantic search for sticky tape, scizzors, novelty
I was just at that: 'Why doesn't anyone look after ME stage'. when the kids finally gave me five minutes to shower in peace.
And when I came out I found the note. And felt bad for feeling like such an ogre only minutes earlier.
Later, we were all tucked up in bed, when C. came into my room.
I was about to tell him off - after all he was supposed to be asleep - when he said: 'I'm just having trouble sleeping and I need an extra hug'.
And we hugged, and he said: 'Mumma's hugs always make me feel better'. And he toddled off to bed.
This from a boy with Aspergers Syndrome, who doesn't love to be touched. Bless.
And I was so glad I hadn't grumped at him, and had enjoyed a hug and a special moment instead.
I did eventually fall asleep, and while I'm still feeling physically awful, I feel like my emotional love bank got a substantial top-up last night.
Readers, how do you handle being sick, in a household of sick people?