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.

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