Another one bites the dust . . . .
As of this morning, the number of infected individuals in our household has gone up to 4. Zoe thinks we need to wrap the outside of our house in yellow, police tape and give Mr. Level-Headed, the last man standing, a hazmat suit . . . tee hee!Avery, who only had the sniffles and some sneezing up to this point, has now entered the achy body stage, and he is not impressed. Avery, the fighter of our household, figures being sick undermines his masculinity and so he has had to ramp up his testosterone-fueled tough guy image. Beware: He is in your face, he is intense, and he is looking for a fight.
As for Elliot, this illness has consumed him, and he spends his entire day discussing his symptoms at length, asking about everyone else's symptoms, and moaning and groaning. Thankfully, we have all learned the skill of zoning him out (did I just admit that publicly? Eeek . . . I mean we love him dearly) because if not, we would all break out into a fit of hysteria since according to him, every second of the day, this cold is no ordinary cold. Nope, according to Elliot, this cold is most definitely a sign of the apocalypse and will single-handedly bring on the demise of all of humanity . . . tee hee! What a kid!
So, it looks like we will be spending yet another day in bed drinking smoothies and honey lemon tea, while reading about Ancient China and trying to diffuse Elliot's overwhelming obsession with the end of the world. Yay, me!
Oh, and in case you do have the misfortune of coming down with this apocalyptic cold, do not try to freeze your boogies by standing in front a fan because according to both of my boys, who I just found out tried this last night before bed, it does not work. Ya' know, just in case it crossed your mind . . . tee hee! They may not be bright, or healthy at this moment, but they sure are cute.