I broke a well-established protocol in this house and paid the price for it. My wife gave birth to a beautiful bouncing germ factory nineteen years ago. Her ability to make the house sick amplified when starting the petri dish called elementary school. She came home from school with a cold sniffling, barely slowed her down for a couple of days, and then recovered as if nothing happened.
My wife and main caregiver would catch the cold and proceeded to pass it on to me. Being adults, the effects of the cold were worse and lasted most of a week. During the worst three days of the cold, it was hard to effectively maintain simple duties around the house and we felt miserable.
I questioned my daughter in third grade about the transfer of germs to her parents. She replied with a grin, “Sharing Is Caring.” This has been the mantra for the past years every time a bug traversed from daughter to mother, and then to father. If you wonder where she gets her sarcasm from? It is her mother, yes, definitely her mother.
I missed this past weekend due to one bugger of a cold. It spread to my ears causing dizzy spells and queasiness. As my head started to clear out on Monday and my wife began sniffling. By Tuesday, she couldn’t breathe through her nose. Then on Wednesday, my daughter started the sniffles, and Thursday she sounded like Eeyore.
Today, I am in trouble for saying, “Sharing Is Caring.” When I reversed the sickness in the house and the cold ran from eldest to youngest, it changed the whole cosmos upsetting the natural flow. So, I am in trouble and gaining glares from the two most beautiful women in my life.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Our best friends moved to Florida leaving their nineteen-year-old daughter behind. She and my daughter have been best friends since before they could talk. I am a second dad to her and include her with the dad joke text. Ginger formed a special bond with her over the years.
My second daughter came for a visit on Wednesday and I, being the only healthy person, welcomed her into our house. We tried to hold a conversation, but it proved to be nearly impossible with our resident Karen whining her way into the discussion. Ginger’s especially loud high-pitched whistled whine preempted our ability to talk. Every part of her forty pounds wagged with excitement for seeing her friend. After the quick five-minute visit, I had to hold back the Karen from trying to leave with her BFF.
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