i don’t get sick.  Seriously, i have – for reasons unknown to me – developed the immune system of a cockroach during the course of my life.  In the past ten years, i can COUNT the number of times i’ve been sick.  A bout with strep 10 years ago, a few rounds of the pesky 24-hour stomach virus (one delightfully timed to coincide with Girl Scout Cookie deliveries).  Mononucleosis, contracted in the Cambodian jungle trip in 2006 (initially mistaken for Malaria).

Head colds?  Rare.  Maybe twice.  That was until this season.  i have had the same fucking cold – passed to others for mutation prior to return to my nasal cavities – THREE times.  It’s a minor annoyance, and costs me about $10 in Kleenex each time.  But i’m sick of it.  Since November, my head has been weighed down with extraneous lugubrious secretions and i can’t stand it…

Friday night, returning from a happy hour drunk fest work, both of my children were home.  i made the mistake of whining about being sick, as i curled up under a blanket in the living room.

The Boy:  Wow.  She’s really starting to fall apart…

The Girl:  Really.  Do you think it’s time we had her put down?

The Boy:  Yeah… starting to get pathetic, isn’t she?

daisyfae:  Hey!  It’s a fucking cold!  But you know i don’t get sick… how many times have you seen me sick?

The Girl:  Should we take her for a ride in the country?

The Boy:  C’mon, Mom!  It’ll be nice!  We’ll take you out to a field, where you can frolic around with a lot of other middle-aged women…