“I’d lend you a blanket, but it probably has ringworm.”

In the guesthouse common room, there’s a box of lice medication next to packets of Crystal Lite drink mix and lo-cal sweeteners. This is how we roll, in Addis. Meds for ailments that would probably freak out most American parents- may actually be a parent’s worst nightmare stateside- are commonplace. Mothers swap meds to counteract the effects of endless diarrhea; fathers don latex gloves before breakfast to apply cortisone cream to toddlers’ scalps etched with well-established ringworm infections. There is little queasiness, and if there is any, we laugh it off, about the daily clean-ups, disgusting symptoms, and most recent disasters. It seems like every day, at least one toddler has a gusher, a sudden bout of liquid poo that flows out of their diaper, soaking their clothing, their parents’, and the carpet. This is unlike any poo you’ve probably ever come across, with a stench so horrid and lingering, it inspires competitive descriptions by laughing parents drinking local beer late into the night.

By typical American standards, our kids are pretty sick. Aside from the diarrhea (but really, isn’t everything?), these children have conjunctivitis, flowing-green-snotty head colds and barking coughs, practically open-wound diaper rash, bacterial and fungal infections, and a variety of infestations. It is frequently gross, smelly, itchy, or painful around here.

But this is Africa, and every parent here knows that their child is lucky; that he or she could have something much worse than ringworm, lice, scabies, ghiardia, flat worms or parasites. Here, these children are healthy. They look like high school athletes compared to the children we see on the streets. Adoptive parents of African children are unflinching; we treat what we can here, and we save the rest for when we get home to the pediatrician. All of this is no big deal, really- our kids are alive and pretty healthy and going to get much healthier when they get home.