The Plague

First it was Chloe, who flies off to Florida feeling like crap and comes home as good as new. Greeting her at the door is a very sick Mommy, who is feverish and has a hacking cough. Two days later, Daddy succumbs. And you know it’s bad when Daddy succumbs, because Daddy NEVER succumbs.

The icing on the cake arrived this morning. In the form of Sophie puking all over the kitchen floor. She spent the rest of the day trying to sleep it off. But no, we’re not done making the rounds yet. Because our dear babysitter is also afflicted. We sent her home a little early today.

This hasn’t happened to our entire family unit, ever. Falling like dominoes. One after the other. Like the plague. Except I suppose our 21st century bodies are better able to withstand the germs than they were back in the 14th century. We may have to quarantine ourselves if things don’t improve soon.

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