Alternatively...

er pupo will NOT go to daycare. Not a well boy :( The only thing he ate all day was tomato soup, which came speedily out again in both directions. One armed mamma spent the day desperately trying to get water and milk into him, change nappies and clothes (and change those clothes again. and again), clean up skitters and spew and generaly provide comfort (cuddling, oh cuddling, and you must stand by the stereo. I said STAND, not sit, you lazy old mamma) to His Royal Whinginess. Hubby of course was "too busy" and came home at 3, too late to go to the doctor, but just in time to send one armed mother out to get the groceries. And then act all resentful about the fact he had to do the washing up and put his own washing away. All done, of course, as slowly as possible so that he could look very busy and laboured, whilst actually doing as little as possible, and I battled with entertaining sick pupo, washing some very unpleasant bedclothes and muslins, and changing er pupo's sheets.

I suspect my arm won't be getting better anytime soon. More complaining from me to follow...