Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The Crud

Ben picked it up at school and brought it home to me. You know, "The Crud." The virus that has you running to the other side of the house for tissues with your head tipped back so as not to drip. How my nose can drip anything while it is so plugged up is a mystery that is, frankly, too gross to solve. My ears are also plugged, and I find that I am coughing so unexpectedly that I now feel a little guilty for admonishing Ben to "cover when you cough," as my hands and arms are inevitably otherwise occupied when one bursts from my mouth. And I am cold. I have icicle fingers and Popsicle toes. All I want to do is sit in a hot bath sipping hot tea, or maybe a hot toddy. But I will probably sip some Ther@Flu* daytime because, you know, there are groceries to buy and trees to prune and stuff.