So I just got off the phone with the pediatrician a little bit ago. We now have the official diagnosis: Contact dermatitis, absolutely hands-down-no-question.
No new bumps, no fever, no itching, what spots there were getting smaller and paler without any eruptions or lesions. T’aint chickenpox, ‘tis probably something in the tub.
Which means that I am guilty-guilty-guilty and it is all my fault. Hmm. Where did I put that hair shirt of mine…
So after I hung up the phone, I turned to my beloved offspring and announced, “Good news, guys! You can go back to school tomorrow! You are neither contagious nor sick!”
Eldest looked me dead in the eye and deadpanned, “Good news for YOU, maybe!”
You know, it really sucks when they're wittier than you...
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