Work ran a little long today, so I didn't get to leave until 5:15, which put me squarely in the holiday traffic, making me ever so slightly later than usual in picking up the boys. I grabbed Secondborn first, and he continued the trend by pointing out -- halfway between his own school and his brother's -- that he felt sick to his stomach. I pulled off and stopped the car. He spat a few times, but seemed okay; nothing... catastrophic. So we went on, picked his brother up, and came home; sure enough, Secondborn is running a moderate fever (101.5 or thereabouts). So I have him try eating a cracker, and put him in the bathtub while I make dinner for Firstborn and myself. Firstborn, meanwhile, decides to start lobbying for his brother's right to play video games ("because he's sick"), something we normally don't allow on school nights. Then the cat (who desperately needs a bath himself) decides that it's time to sit on my toes and meow at me, in the hopes that I'll come and change his (rather foul) bowl of water. And, of course, that's when the phone starts ringing.
If my wife comes home and finds me curled up in the fetal position on the floor, sobbing helplessly, this is why.