Until this week, I really thought shingles were things that you put on the roof of your house. Well, in our house, my kids have been declaring a 23-19 all week long! (For those of you who are not so “Monster’s Inc.” educated, a 23-19 is what the CDC declares whenever someone has been contaminated.) If they had protective suits, they would be wearing them. If they could put me behind a curtain and hose me down with disinfectant, they would—laughing all they way.
I have been quarantined. Dana threatened to send me to the guest room. Haylee refuses to hug me closer than 10 inches. She just sort of pauses, looks at me, selects a safe spot on my head, and gently pats me, as she’s backing away. Then she rushes to the sink to wash her hands. And when they all see my shingles, they cringe, make faces, and back away slowly. Can’t you just feel the love!
As for me—I’m on heavy doses of something like a disinfectant pill, and heavy doses of Advil. I’ve been trying to think of one name for Hodgkins and Shingles combined—like Shodgkins… or Shingkins… or Hodggles… Shingphoma? Lymphgles? Nothing seems to work right. At least now I look as sick on the outside as I am (or was) on the inside.
One thing for sure, when I feel better, I’m going to gather my children together, put them all in a headlock, and 23-19 all three of them—that’s for sure! :)
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