Even after having used a couple of sick days, I had the pleasure of having my cold turned into sinusitis. I stayed in bed for a full 24 hours once and at the end of it had to get to Urgent Care because the whole right side of my face felt bruised—even my gums. You don’t even want to know the color of my mucus during the one time I managed to blow my nose productively.

And now H.E.’s sick. It’s so ironic. He came back from a trip back east, where the weather was awful and sick people everywhere were hawking and patooing; he was so afraid he’d bring back the crawling crud and get me sick with it. He never did. Yet here I’ve managed to catch whatever my co-worker had from her five-year-old, and I’ve so easily passed it on to him.

That’s called the joy of having kids who go to school. School-aged children everywhere always have the latest and greatest of all illnesses, small and lethal. Hm. Did my biological clock just stop ticking? I hardly ever used to get sick when I worked at places where all my co-workers were single, and now my body’s developing antibodies it never knew it needed.

Well … with all my new antibodies, if my biological clock ever starts ticking again, I think I’m going to breastfeed my children until they’re eighteen. I’ve heard it’s the best way to pass your immunities on to your kids.

Too bad it didn’t work for H.E., though. But, hey, at least I can say we tried.

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