So, did you know you could get strep on your butt?
Hmmmm, me neither.
Turns out Shea's butt knew this, and managed to be first in line to sign up for a scorching case of Perianal Streptococcal Dermatitis--or Strep-da-Booty, which we affectionately call it around the campfire--that her pediatrician quickly diagnosed after taking a look at her adorable but very angry little bottom.
He also said it's easy to catch--probably from one of her vector parents, both of whom suffered a case of strep throat at least once this summer--and, fortunately, easy to cure.
Unfortunately, this marks the fourth case of the dreaded "strep" in the house this summer; despite our best efforts to scour the house of all germs and triple launder the linens, we just keep volleying the yuck back and forth.
I feel like we should paint a big AMOXICILLIN DISTRIBUTED LIBERALLY HERE warning on the front door--partly to warn visitors of our ongoing bacterial challenges, and partly to scare away any new strep bugs that are plotting their next attack.
I'm pretty sure the pharmacists at SavOn think I'm stalking them at this point.