The gods are angry.
I'm not sure what they're angry about, but they're angry. Specifically, they're angry at Finn. Perhaps, like Adonis, he has been judged to be too beautiful. Or perhaps like Job, his life is too good. Either way, he is currently being visited by a plague that we are referring to as "The Situation".
I present Exhibit A.
Check out that thing on his knuckle. If it sticks around, we're going to need to get a bigger house.
The doctor has written this off as some sort of freak allergic reaction. Since this came about immediately after Daddy/Finn day on Monday, I can only assume that he's allergic to my lameness. As soon as Mommy spent the day at home with him yesterday, he immediately started recovering.
This also came right on the heels of Kitty and I chortling over how lucky we were that Finn had been so healthy.
Note to self: no more chortling.