Forget the caviar & cocktails, cough syrup and cold medicine is what’s on the menu
It was the sound of my finance Sean and I sneezing, sniffling and caughing that woke me up on Christmas morning and not the sound of reindeer hoofs on my roof.
Sean began running a fever on Day 2 of of our 4-day weekend and that pretty much set the stage for our entire holiday.
I can’t count the number of gross and germy used tissues I threw away or remember the exact number of cans of soup that were eaten, but what I do remember is hearing the moans and groans of a 28-year-old man echo throughout the house.
For a person who proclaimes that he felt like he was dying, he sure mustered up enough life to say “I’m sick” a million times a day.
By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, I was approaching the edge of insanity and had to get out of the house and away from him.
My parents and I were meeting at my sister’s house to exchange gifts and I couldn’t wait to get there.
It was a chilly evening and we spent most of out time outside on the back patio enjoying each other’s company, but little did I know that I would soon be the one needing to take a trip to the drug store.
I was never a sickly shild, but the older I get the less my immune system does for me.
I had bronchitis for the first time two years ago, and now, everytime I start to sniffle or there’s a “bug” around, I know that I will evitably get sick.
I tried my hardest not to let his germs get the best of me.
I sprayed Lysol disinfectant spray, kept my hands washed and quarantined Sean to a particular part of the house.
But all my precautions failed and now the tables have turned and he’s taking care of me.
I guess what goes around comes around – even colds – and tag, I’m it.
Time for a hot bowl of soup and box of tissue, until next year – Happy Holidays!