A Cold Summer
“Heddo. By dose is stuffy and by throat is od fire. The good dews is that this is a virus you cad’t catch over the idderdet.”
Yes, buttercup, my word pronunciation sounds like the above, thanks to this nasty summer cold invading my sinuses. I caught this villainous virus while performing a good deed. My daughter, Stephanie, suffered from this icky stuff last week. She sounded pitiful, and I rushed to her apartment armed with chicken soup, cold medicine, juice pops, OJ, a thermometer, and lots of sympathy. My “mommy ministrations” brought a smile to my girl’s face; they also left me vulnerable to the dreaded Summer Cold.
I know I taught her to share, but does she have to be such an overachiever?
Why are summer colds worse than winter colds? And if I present this question in writing with lots of scientific sounding gibberish do you think the government will award me a grant for the study of this perplexing puzzlement? Just asking.
Colds are rotten any time of the year, but in the summer they seem especially awful. Maybe it is because summer brings mental pictures of water and beaches and lots of sunshine. Winter, with its bare-limbed trees and icy winds seems destined to be inhabited by viruses. Summer is supposed to be the anti-winter. Unfortunately, cold viruses didn’t get the memo.
My grandma always said a cold sticks around for three weeks: one week to catch it, one week to suffer with it, and one week to get rid of it. Lucky for me, even though I’ll be a mouth breather until the first of August, my fingers can still fly over my laptop’s keys, unaffected by the traffic jam in my nose.
“I bay be stuffy, ad by eyes bay be itchy ad red, but I cad still read ad write. That bakes it a good day.”
Til dext tibe –