The Great Plague of 2015


“Bring out your sneezes,” the cloaked man called. “Bring out your coughing fits!”

Elizabeth and the little human have been sharing a strain of cold I like to call H1NHOLYSHITTHATISALOTOFSNOT3. I know the H1 reference is a flu strain, but I thought the leap in medical actuality was worth the joke. That’s how I roll. I’m a hero that way. At the same time, the joke doesn’t seem worth it any more. Like I’ve gone too far. Like I’ve told the Gypsy fortune teller too much.

Anyway, they’ve been sick for about a week now. The hoser smiles through it all. Elizabeth looks like she’s been living in a whale.

There were times I thought about making them sleep in the back yard, but according to the Internet it is what’s called ‘illegal’. And because of these societal legal chains I’m supposed to be held up to being an ‘adult’, I’ve contracted the disease myself. I haven’t called the cops yet…but I’m thinking about it.

Elizabeth is champing this out though. She drags her butt to work. I really respect her for this. Listening to her cough through the  night, I know she isn’t getting a lot of sleep. Unless she is just having a dream that she is in a barn fire. Either way, it sucks.

A couple of nice things have come out of this though. My son and I have watched our first full movie together, The Iron Giant. Yes, he is only five months old, and yes it was interrupted by a diaper change, but he seemed captivated and yelled at the screen. I’m looking forward to sharing other special occasion movies with him. We aren’t big on the baby in front of the TV thing, but I’m a big fan of movies and will share some of my special favourites with him. I’ll save The Exorcist until he is at least a year old (Jesus, Elizabeth, I’m just kidding)!

Another thing I did a lot of today was play my guitar for him and sing him songs about farts. That brought two of my favourite things together; a smiling baby and songs about farts. Seriously, it was like the kid understood what I was saying. Maybe it was the sound effects? Anyhoo, my throat is horse enough without the singing, but it was making him so happy. Amirite?

I’m watching him sleep right now. He’s wearing his bear snow suit. We just got back from returning some library books. He looks so warm and comfortable. And safe. I’m glad to be a part of this…this thing. This life of his. This life of Elizabeth’s and mine. I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. But I’m getting better at it. I hope.

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