Despite everything, despite all precautions, I have failed.

We have a cold.

Two of my kids came down with it first—the two who haven’t left the house in a month—and now I have it.

I blame it on chicken.

I ordered out for Valentine’s Day. Swiss Chalet. Do you have Swiss Chalet in the US? They specialize in roasted chicken dinners.

The two kids had chicken, I had ribs.

I figure someone sneezed on their chicken skin. It’s the only explanation.

I know the very moment I caught this cold. Standing in the hallway beside the bathroom door, Alex yelled at me (we were playing around) from only a few inches away. I felt his breath on my face and had a moment of absolute clarity.

I’m sick, I thought. This is where I got sick.

And sure enough …

I’m sick.

It’s totally the chicken’s fault.

This blame-y post was brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Find the prompt here and join in! It’s fun!