From the depths of a nyquil induced coma, I hear:

"The letter 'b' says buh!"

I crack open a crusty eye.

Jude has hunkered down in the covers with blankie, stuffed Lion and his Leap-Pad.

"The letter 'd' says duh!" squawks the Leap-Pad.

My head is a cement block. Did I already mention how much I hate sinus infections?

Again I say: I hate sinus infections.

The Mateo enters with a huge mug of steaming coffee. For me? Yes. I stagger out of bed, snorting, hacking, make my way to the bathroom. And he's made lunches. And he's fed the troops.

Two heads are better than one. Especially if one head is not congested.