I’m sick. I seem to have caught a much more severe version of whatever the boy had this week. Verily and truly I say unto thee…”I Want My Mommy!” Mere mortals would have already shuffled off the mortal coil…it’s sheer strength of will keeping me alive. That and hot tea. I’m serious, I could die here. And me with no Jewish mother to make chicken soup. Sniff.
Have I ever mentioned that I’m a big ol baby when I’m sick? It’s true. I become like most sick guys…which is to say, insufferable. It’s pathetic. I’m going to go lay on the furniture and moan and see if anyone pays attention and brings me tea and cantalope.