*sniffle*

A family is a unit composed not only of children but of men, women, an occasional animal, and the common cold.

--Ogden Nash

Oh dear.
Oh d-d-dear-dear-dear.
I'm sick.
And, because it is the weekend and I have no spawn to speak of, I am milking this for all it's worth. You see, once I have kids, I am not allowed to act sick. Not a bit. Well, since the closest thing I have to babies are my very independent cats, I'm spending the days in bed, tissue box as a constant tag-along and nasal spray as my best buddy. One of the worst colds I've ever had. Thank you, school children, for all of your love and your germs. Thank you, Chris, for putting up with me and babying me . . . while you laugh at my "grumpus" misery. Care and laughter make me realize how ridiculous I am.

My little sister Catherine came to spend the weekend with us while my parents and baby sisters were out of town helping with a church retreat. While I was in bed, struggling to breathe thru snot-corked nostrils and coughing like a smoker, Catherine had an all-day movie marathon and feasted on junk food and watermelon. She was so very very sad to leave. She became even more depressed when she realized that her phone charger liked the easy life so much, it decided to stay behind while she headed back to the real world.

So here I am . . . blogging . . . prepared to fold laundry, the first real work I've done all weekend (due to self-suffocation of sinuses and general weakness and aches) while listening to Tim Curry narrate A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Bad Beginning. Ah, Mr. Curry, you make literature glorious. Thank you.