Last night, I had three Oreos and a cup of low-fat blueberry yogurt for dinner.
That's because they found me. The back-to-school germs, that is. They found me, and now I'm sick as a dog.
Two of my three kids started back to school last week. That's the only reason we have Oreos in the house in the first place: for lunchboxes. Usually I buy the icky green mint ones. The kids love 'em, I don't, so they stay safely in the pantry where they belong.
But for the first week of school I wanted special. I wanted the golden double-stuff Oreos.
I like those.
I don't think the Oreos brought the germs, though. I think the kids did that, even though not a single one of them has this bug. Oh, my redhead ran a fever for a whole 36 hours last week. But that was it. And it's not what I've got.
They're carriers, these kids. Human petri dishes. I think it's all part of an insidious conspiracy. The germs attack me, the kids stay healthy, and then when I'm at my weakest the kids strike. Seems a lot of work for a few extra hours in front of the TV, but I suppose to them it's worth it.
So here I am. It's barely the second week of school, and I'm coughing so hard I can't sleep, unable to take a deep breath, and so hoarse no one can hear me.
I'm also too weak to stand up and make myself food. Hence the yogurt and Oreos.
Gotta love it when the kids head back to school ...
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