First mate's log:

November 9, 1969

I have the measles! I must've caught them from the Bradys, because I hang out with that family more than anyone except Mary Ann, the Skipper, and the rest of the crew. And all the Brady kids have them. Dr. Howard says it's more unusual for adults to get them, but I never had them as a kid, and it's not like I was exposed to them during the years we were marooned. The Bradys must've caught them from one of the new families on the island.

Anyway, the Skipper luckily had them when he was a kid, back in the '20s, so he doesn't have to move out and wait until I'm well. The thing is, he can't be home much because of the ferry, since it can't manage without both of us. And Mary Ann (who also had the measles as a kid) is too busy with her diner to take care of me, other than bringing me hot meals twice a day. Ginger called and said, "Sweetie, you know I'd love to play nurse, but I'm too busy at the station."

Of all people, the only one who cares about me and isn't too busy is Mrs. Howell. Today, after I had to skip church in the morning, she showed up in her nurse's uniform from a few years ago and said, "My Poor Sick Boy, don't you worry about a thing. I'll take care of you."

"Gee, thanks, Mrs. Howell, but won't your husband miss you?"

"Oh, Thurston can manage without me for a week or so. He has the servants."

I was about to say I meant he'd miss her for the non-housework side of marriage, when the Skipper said, "Uh, where are you planning to sleep, Mrs. Howell?"

"Oh, I can rough it on your sofa." Then she snapped her fingers and two manservants carried in her steamer trunk, which is now taking up a lot of space in our living room. I don't know how she's going to manage, without servants or her husband, for a week or so.

The Skipper looked like he wanted to tell her to leave, but, one, I think he's relieved that he can leave me alone with a clear conscience and keep doing ferry runs, and two, Mrs. Howell is very nice and very rich, so it's hard to say no to her. As for me, well, it's not every guy who has an heiress for a nurse, right? Yeah, it'd be better if she had more of a medical background, but she can follow Dr. Howard's instructions and fluff my pillows and read to me, which is all I really need.

Mary Ann told the three of us that Alice told her that the Brady kids are expecting her and their parents to wait on them hand and foot. They are usually good kids, not at all spoiled, probably because they lived so simply their first four years on the island. But being sick makes them bored and irritable.

Mrs. Howell said, "I would much rather look after dear Gilligan than those six darling but troublesome moppets."

Not much of a compliment, but I'll take it. And that's all I can write because I keep wanting to scratch my spots with this pen.

Carol Brady's diary:

November 10, 1969

All six of the kids have the measles! In a way, it's better that they have them simultaneously and get it over with, but on the other hand, they are running me, Mike, and Alice ragged waiting on them. It's not just that every child has to have their favorite foods (which don't overlap much) at each meal. They also want puzzles, board games, books, and a little TV set, which Mike is ordering from Blenford.

But more than dealing with their hunger and boredom, Mike and I have to contend with their refusal to all see the same doctor. While Jan saw Dr. Howard without fuss last year, during the allergy scare, she's more aware at nine than at eight of the difference between boys and girls, men and women. And now there are two pediatricians on the island, Dr. Cameron, the male doctor whose office Mike dropped in at, and Dr. Porter, the female doctor who I called. We should've discussed it with each other first, because not only don't we need two doctors for the children, but the boys refuse to have Dr. Porter examine them, and the girls feel the same way about Dr. Cameron.

I find myself envying the relatively simple situation over at the sailors' hut, I mean house. Gilligan is seeing Dr. Howard, while Mrs. Howell, who's probably bored by her life of leisure, especially after the years of excitement during the marooning, looks after him.

November 16, 1969

I'm well again, thank goodness. Mrs. Howell was real sweet to look after me, but it was awkward and crowded while she was here, especially since I was home all day. (I couldn't write in here of course, especially not when Mr. Howell kept getting lonely and dropping in. At least I got to watch a lot of TV.) And she shaved off my mustache! She said it was for health reasons. I haven't decided whether to grow it back. My face was pretty itchy with the measles, so I don't know if I want something on my upper lip again just yet.

November 17, 1969

The medical crisis is over. Mike and I decided to keep using both pediatricians, and Cameron & Porter have joined practices. The children (and Gilligan) are well, although we thought at first that Greg still had a sore throat. It turned out his voice changed while he was sick.

"He's lucky," Mike told me. "My voice broke so bad when I was thirteen, I squeaked whenever I got called on in school."

I nodded. "My poor brother sounded like our mother."

Of all the kids, I think Greg is the least awkward, maybe because he's the oldest. Even Marcia has more self-doubt than he does. But Greg has a certain poise that Bobby and particularly Peter do not. I don't have favorites, but I do see Greg's potential to be anything he sets his mind to. Growing up on this island won't be a handicap to him and I think in fact it's made him more adaptable.

But, yes, he was just as spoiled as the rest of the bunch when he was sick.