We've left my mom the entire house, while the rest of us huddle in the basement barking our seal coughs all over each other. I'm surprised my mom doesn't open the basement door and throw fish down to us while we clap our flippers in appreciation.
Needless to say, we're trying to not get my mom sick. Mar's been banished from her bed. And because Bill and I are both sick and my new tattoo still hurts, I banished Mar from our bed, too. So last night she slept on a make-shift mat of blankets next to our bed.
When I got up to get ready for work this morning, I saw her little (I guess I should say, little-ish, she's a growing weed) foot poking out from the tangle of quilts and comforters. Then I heard her cough.
But Bill's got it the worst. He'll claim the reason is because he's got the "man" version of this virus. I think it's because his immune system is man-weak.
I've been pounding Airborne, drinking lots of water and eating as much soup as I can get my hands on.
That made me less sick. Well enough to go to work, but sick enough to know that I'm miserable.
Stupid virus. Thankfully it's Friday and my bed is calling.