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Noses are red, my love

Pilots are blue
Sugar is wheat, my love
But not as wheat as you.

I’m ill. It’s one of those ‘big colds and little fever’ that moves from one family member to another until you have no escape. Last week, poor M had it and he couldn’t  make sense of the runny nose and watering eye. Last night, I was ‘it’.

With several deadlines, interviews lined up, a family wedding over the weekend, guests in the house, ongoing renovation, plus a now-climbing-stairs-and-whoops-I-can-turn-around toddler, this is not a good time for this to happen.

It’s nothing major, I know. But something small like this can knock you out, make you want to curl into bed and not wake up until next Wednesday.

I think I’ll do just that.


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