But as it turns out, I am fighting the plague. And the plague seems to be winning. My darling daughter, who has been fighting a strep infection for the better part of three months, has infected me. Remind me again, why I chose to breed? Now, now, don't be alarmed. I still love her mucous spreading, germ loving ways. I just wish she had gifted them on someone else, like say, her abnormally resilient father.
The Hillbilly Wars will return to it's regulary scheduled time next week for any who are interested. That is, if I survive the whining and sniffling of the following few days. Because, I'll admit I am the world's biggest baby when I am sick and I may be handing my husband a motive for murder with all of my germy wimpiness.
I plan on spending the next few hours maneuvering around my nose. Nobody tells you how to blow it when there is a big metal earring for which snot can crust on to when you are sick. Apparently, I may not have thought this nose thing through. Hmmm...