Some days are sick days. Sometimes those sick days become sick weeks. Conveniently enough, the day I got to Moscow, the boy I am watching came down with a miserable cold. This cold has resulted in sick week, lots of tea, doctors visits, and chicken noodle soup until it comes out of your ears. Been good for me to be forced inside each day to work on photo editing, cooking a hundred varieties of soup, but I think today I'm going to break free of this cabin fever with either a museum or a ballet. Until then it's sick days and chicken noodle soup mania.