Friday, December 3, 2010

The Black Death

This morning my coffee is serving a dual purpose. Obviously, it’s waking me up, but it’s also soothing my sore throat. Apparently, in the Ragsdale house we all have The Bubonic Plague. Seriously. I’ve considered loading up our used Kleenex to catapult onto our enemies. As you can most likely imagine, because of the sickness, our home life has not been a lot of fun lately. Cranky kids. Cranky parents. It’s a lose lose situation.
Largely, our current malady is destroying our sinuses, but it feels as if it’s affecting our very soul. I’ve never had this experience where four people who live in the same house and are sick try to pretend like they’re not and the keep going even though they’re slogging through a river of mucus. It’s a testament to the human condition. Or maybe it’s a testament to how dumb we are that we just can’t take a break and get better. Either way, we’re soldiers. Soldiers in a war on germs.
Sorry if today’s post is a little weirder than normal. Last night while assembling our Christmas tree I had an allergy attack. The only medication I could find to soothe my itchy, watery eyes was a single Benadryl capsule that expired in 2008. Needless to say, I’m in a bit of a fog today.

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