Blame The Bonnie Wee One

Cuppa and I are both sick with colds. Bad colds. Except for a very minor skirmish or two, we escaped the whole, dreadfully long winter and its concomitant germ attacks, but our luck has turned now that spring is here.

The Bonnie Wee One caught it first, then Mom, and finally gramma and grampa. Of course if Nikki Dee were to catch something, we'd almost be sure to fall ill also because ... well because we do tend to get close. Besides, this was a fast one, and we were all contaminated before we knew enough to take evasive action. After being out all day on Friday, I came in the house moaning and groaning that I was sick. Not to be outdone, Cuppa moaned and groaned ... and coughed and spluttered right back at me. So, no sympathy for the old guy.

But we sure react to colds differently. Cuppa hit the sack at about 7:30 on Friday evening and slept most of Saturday away. I don't seem to sleep any more ill than I do healthy. Sometimes, I think it's even less. I remember once getting very sick and mentioning this to the doctor, and he replied with great conviction that I would sleep as a result of the meds that he was prescribing. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

We are both on Cold FX for the first time ever. I don't know how it works because you can't cure the common cold after all, but both of us seem to feel less laid low than in other instances. Well, I know Cuppa has been doing a lot of low-lying, but she does claim to feel not too miserable when she does manage to venture out from under the covers. And I felt good enough to drive out to orchestra practice and felt more or less with it during.

Not that any of you requested a blow-by-blow account of our afflictions, but I did want to pause to observe how two people's bodies can react so differently. Now it's time for grampa to see if he can get some rest. It is after eleven o'clock after all. It shouldn't be too much for a sick man to ask for a decent night's rest. Eh?