To many, that’s hip hop lingo for something (don’t ask me, do I look hip hop to you?). But here in the Gale household, that’s a double case of Whooping Cough (aka, pertussis).
Yes, Ben and I are infected. We are gross, sickly people.
I have had a cold for the past two weeks and it has been progressively getting worse. Yesterday I finally raised the white flag (or kleenex, in my case) and dragged myself in to the doctor. All he needed was to hear one cough and he sent me on my way with an antibiotic prescription. 45 minutes later, Ben followed in my sickly foot steps.
I’m certain that our sweet boy brought home this nasty affliction from preschool. Did he have anything besides a minor cold? No. Of course, he has received immunization shots for Pertussis. Apparently Ben and I aren’t up to date on our boosters.
I used to get perfect attendance awards from my workplace for not having any sick days. These were, of course, the years prior to having a child in daycare/school.
Why am I airing my dirty germs on the internet instead of just staying in bed? Quite honestly, I am looking for sympathy.
Sympathy because not only will we spend the next four days coughing up our lungs, but we’ll be doing it while unpacking boxes.
Tomorrow we move into our new house. We finally get our shipment from Germany. Stuff that we haven’t seen in over two months. We have been living out of suitcases since the middle of December and that’s getting really old. And on Friday, we get the stuff that has been in storage for nearly the last three years (stuff we didn’t take to Germany with us).
So this should be an exciting time for us in the Gale family and all I can muster is “cough, cough.”
