So, I guess you won't be signing up for the marathon?

I finished the 10-day supply of Levaquin antibiotic on Thursday and was glad to be done with it. I had to take it with food or end up with a yucky stomach. Even food didn't necessary stymie the yuck factor. And I knew with the pneumonia being viral that the antibiotic was ineffective in that battle. But, I think the pneumonia battle was just about over before I even knew I had been engaged in combat. I was feeling much better. And the next night, around 10:30, Scott and the girls arrived. They were all jacked from the trip and there was lots of giggling before Chloe and Livy surrendered to sleep. Scott stayed up til about midnight with us and, except for the beer in his hand, it was like he was back home and staying up way too late for a school night. "Don't drink too many of those or you'll have a hangover in physics class!"

Jeff wanted to take the girls to breakfast and show them off at his favorite local egg joint, so I threw a beef stew in the crockpot and then got myself ready. We were taking the girls to a live performance of Sleeping Beauty at 10 am. Jeff and Scott made sure I got the aisle seat as both knees had decided this would be the perfect weekend to go on strike. I was hobbling and it just wasn't possible to disguise my stiff-legged walk. Jeff helped me on the exiting adventure out of Scott's pick-up so that I didn't land too hard on my collapsible underpinnings. So this is what it's like to get old, I thought. Just a year ago, I was burning off 700 calories at 5-a.m. hour-long Zumba classes. From salsa dancing to walker ready in a matter of months.

Scott had a Portillo's craving so we satisfied that request with lunch and then took the girls to Dollar Tree and gave them some shopping money for color/fun books, puzzles and whatever else they deemed worthy of purchase. I was happy for the low-key afternoon of playing Sorry, assembling puzzles, coloring in books and being able to rest my aching knees on a chair. The wig was resting in another room and I was wearing the soft velvet turban that I don at home. Neither of the girls had reacted to the turban, so I asked if they wanted to see Grandma the egghead. They both laughed and said yeah and really didn't react other than smile. They rubbed my bristly head and agreed it kind of felt like velvet too.

The next day Scott and I took the girls to Gameworks where they drove virtual cars, motorcycles and snowmobiles with enthusiasm and surprising skills. Maybe not so surprising. They're Wii kids. My knees were impossibly worse than the day before, so I perched on whatever open stools were available by each game and took a load off.

Monday I took off of work to spend the last day with Scott and the girls. And if your knees were uncooperative and on the endangered list, what's the one place you would avoid? Something mammoth that can only be explored on foot? Of course! Like, say the Museum of Science & Industry? I know. I'm an idiot. But I had told the girls about the million-dollar dollhouse and it was on their must-see list. And to tell you the truth, other than the unique City Museum in St. Louis, which we had explored the year before, there is no museum that attracts me more than S&I. And this was going to be the girls' first visit. I didn't want to miss it. Surprisingly, they did a fast spin around the dollhouse. Guess the idea of it was more enticing than the reality. But they loved the submarine and coal mine and whispering gallery and elaborate train layout -- you name it. We walked it all. Well, they walked. I lurched, like Dr. Frankenstein's monster.

But the one thing I cannot miss on each visit is the chick hatchery. There they are on one side, the newly hatched naked little chicks, lying exhausted and shell-shocked (sorry) amongst the still intact eggs. Then in the other half of the oversized incubator, the fuzzy chicks, maybe a week or two old, zipping around their enclosure like they're turbo birds -- attracted by anything shiny that just might be food. I could watch them for hours. There was one little bird right in front of me who was kind of sprawled and weak looking and just couldn't keep his eyes open. The more I watched him, the more convinced I became that he was sick and on death's door. I looked over at Jeff and his return look told me he too thought we were watching this little baby struggle to live. I was ready to move on when suddenly the chick popped up and dashed to the watering hole. Did I mention I love these little creatures!

By 3:00 I was out of steam, so we told the kids to enjoy the rest of the museum and have a safe journey home and we headed back to Libertyville. I was in so much pain I was fighting back tears, but hey, I'd been down in a coal mine and a German sub and then witnessed the miracle of new life. You don't gain all that without a little pain!