I Hate You Cold Season

I’ve had a cold for a little over a week. Before that, my 8yo had it. Before her, it was my 10yo. Patient zero? That was the 3yo. Now my wife is getting it. More or less, this is what it’s like living with children.

One gets sick by shoving random crap in their mouth, or not washing their hands, or licking the dog, or who knows what. Then they bring it home, and one sibling coughs in the other’s mouth, or drinks their soda, or sticks their hand in the business end of their butt and then wanders around painting the house with germs. It’s passed on and on, until the whole house gets a turn with the sickness, and each child is a boogery mess, something like when Jabba the Hut tried to kiss Princess Leah in the Return Of The Jedi.

Getting sick as a parent isn’t about you alone anymore. It isn’t about you get better, you get rest, you taking the time off from work so you can lay in bed. It’s about two working parents negotiating who’s going to take the day off from work and stay home with a sick kid. It’s about being worn out and tired and sick, but your kid just threw up in the hallway, so you have to handle it regardless of how horrible you feel. It’s about looking at every dripping nose in the daycare and wondering if it will be the spark that sends a flame of illness through your home. It’s about chicken noodle soup and liquid Tylenol and changing sheets on the top bunk at 2 am, all the while wondering what you did wrong to deserve God’s wrath.

It’s about late night snuggles with an adorably sick little girl. It’s about the real milestones, like when your child finally possesses the good sense and coordination to puke in the toilet.

Cold and flu season is a test of endurance for parents. No doubt about it. Hold strong my friends. I’m here with you.

 

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