We are sick.
Technically I am sick, Gemma and Lu are pulling through, Tess made it to the other side and the rest are holding their breath. For the girls, it was a few days of scratchy voices and runny noses but it’s settled in my sinuses and has made me vow never to take my health for granted again.
I broke out the Vick’s, people.
Blah.
I’ve been trying to explain to Gemma why she can’t be outside without a coat (she still holds firm to “the cold never bothers her anyway”) or why her nose keeps leaking.
“You have a little cold.”
“But what is a cold? What does it mean?”
The conversation begins to recycle right about there and the pressure in my sinuses and the aching in my head from this train of thought is enough to do me in.
Today she woke from her nap pink cheeked and rumpled. Her nose needed tending as she climbed onto my lap and snuggled in.
“Yeah, but sometimes you get colds and sometimes you get hots and I got a hot from my warm shower.” she said quietly.
I simultaneously realized I had not done a good job defining a cold to her and that her logic was sound. At least in the moment, anyway. But hot or cold, I just want it to go.
For both of our sakes.
