Children Are Petri Dishes of Death and Doom
The Bean has done it again. Once again, she conspires to take us down using biological warfare. The Bibbed Wonder is thoroughly convinced her goal in life is to make us suffer and kill us slowly and painfully. I know she doesn’t do it intentionally; children are Petri dishes that grow viruses and bacteria. It’s not intentional; it’s just part of their make-up. Sigh. I do wish my child weren’t so inclined to share her “yucks” so freely.
Really, The Bean is a gross little being, if I am honest. She leaves her used tissues strewn about anywhere she resides. Be it the couch, bed, dinner table, stairs, or windowsills. Her nasty cottony white wads of snot look like dangerous virus spreading white carnations intended to kill us. Not only does she leave used tissues everywhere, but she also touches everything. Remotes, light switches, silverware, glasses, toilet paper, toilet handles, you name it, she has touched it with her germy little digits of death and doom. It’s impossible to keep up with her and her spread of disease and destruction.
Yesterday, The Bean went to the doctor with what I suspected was a sinus infection. My instincts were correct, and she came home with a potent antibiotic and instructions to drink plenty of fluids and rest. I noticed my throat felt sore and scratchy, but nothing serious. By the time bedtime rolled around, I had a fever of 101 and felt like I got hit by a bus. Sigh. Thanks for the love, Bean.
The Bibbed Wonder had a rare day off, having scheduled a playdate with his friend Arthur. They rode side by side four-wheelers, went out to lunch, and had a cocktail. It does my bib overall wearing buddy good to spend time with friends doing something besides work. However, by bedtime, he too was complaining of dying from the germs The Bean spread around. When he doesn’t feel well, he is always dying. He reminds me very much of an insolent child who refuses to take medicine or do anything to help himself feel better. He got up to feed this morning but decided to go back to bed and “die for two more hours.” Sigh. He’s very dramatic.
Every time we get sick because our Petri dish daughter brings home an illness, he says to me in a funny mocking voice, “Let’s get a baby, you said. It will be great, you said. She won’t try to kill us slowly and painfully. I wanted a goldfish. We could have flushed a goldfish by now.” The Bean laughs at him and tells him how rude he is and usually does something disgusting like lick his glass or throw a used tissue at him. They indeed are two peas in a pod.
Once again, we are all down for the count and experiencing various stages of death…according to The Bibbed Wonder. Have I communicated how much I miss lockdown, home school, and isolation? All of that was awful, but the silver lining was we didn’t get sick, not even a case of the sniffles. It was awesome. However, seeing my little buddy blossom and grow through her experiences in school is worth all the mucus, used tissues, and body aches…mostly.
On this dreary Thursday, dear reader, stay safe, be smart, avoid little Petri dishes that spread death and disease, and wash your hands for the love of all that’s holy. Although I can’t combat the balled-up used tissues of doom, you can hopefully avoid such a cruel fate.