Like my first taste of beer, life has it's bitter moments. I am down with another infection. This time it's the bug that gives you blisters in your mouth and on your feet and hands. Papa calls it HFMD. I picked it up from the infant care facility which I attend three times a week. My blisters started appearing on Monday and I am now being strictly quarantined. Nothing for the whole week. No school, no outings, no TV, no playing with my cousins, no anything. Nada, zilch, nyet. It is now day three of my solitary confinement and the isolation is starting to get to me. It's worse than the disease itself, which so far I have handled very well. There is no fever, only the blisters that have cropped up on my legs, hands, tongue, lips and throat. I feel only mildly uncomfortable, and am going about my business like nothing has happened. In fact my appetite has not diminished one iota, which is surprising all at home. I am sill eating voraciously, like there is no tomorrow. Papa says I need to be confined for the benefit of others, so I need to be patient and understanding. It's tough, but I have been co-operating well so far. Papa is very proud of me. This will be one of the longest weeks of my life.