Guess who's got the chicken pox? My sweet Marguerite, that's who. Her spots broke out yesterday, but since she has been absolutely normal (if she ran a temperature, I couldn't be sure because some irresponsible parent left all the thermometers in her parents' house. I thought she felt a little warm a day or two ago, but since she was her normal energetic self, I didn't make a fuss about it.) we thought she was just bitten by some hateful little creature. However, I remember wondering out loud to Husband if it could be chicken pox. Husband was regrettably very self-assured in his negation. Anyway, this morning before I gave her a bath, I noticed that the bites have multiplied, so I called up Husband to offer him the chance to reconsider the chicken pox possibility. So, since I couldn't very well go around knocking on doors in hope of finding a knowledgeable creature (they came in the form of Mom, Dad, aunt, helpers where we used to live) who could verify whether the spots were chicken pox or not, we made an appointment to visit Marguerite's doctor. Dr. Cricket took one look at a spot and confirmed it as chicken pox. If you must know, I've never had it. The summer of '87 or '88, my two uncles and my sister came down with the disease, but I got spared (this is also always the story with pink eye - everybody would get it but me... one time, my friend slept over and got it from Chip - I was a sniveling, asthmatic weakling, but those diseases couldn't touch me somehow. My dad's theory is that I was so fried with asthma medication that I'd become mutant-ish.). Anyway, the plan is to deal with the chicken pox with baking soda in bath water and a supportive diet. The big question is whether I'll get it this time, sleeping in the same bed as my little one. Oh, and yes, we opted against the varicella vaccine, and no, we don't regret it.