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Imagine my surprise, when the lovely corned beef dinner I was enjoying did NOT come snorting out of my nose. We were all seated around our kitchen table, talking about this and that and really nothing at all. Our minds were fixated on the last piece of red meat I pulled out of my freezer for some time to come.  But then the boy began to speak and well, things began to happen…

“Honestly I do believe I may be coming down with the annual back to school cold” the boy began. “Hard to tell, especially when you keep leaving the table to blow your nose and wash your hands” his sister replied. “Well, at least that’s better than not…” His father intoned. As the boy rose from the table to wash his hands and throw away the recently used kleenex. Then he stopped and hovered over my head, leaned down and said, “I’d give you a kiss mama, but I don’t want to spread my cold germs to your hair…”and instead gave me a nice pat atop the head. “Thank you bay because yes, my hair is just that porous…” I replied with a smile. ” “Well you know mama if you were to get my cold then my sometime hypochondriac father would begin blaming me for his getting sick and then the doll would catch the cold just to spite me.”

I coughed when the boy named his father the “sometime hypochondriac” and looked over to see his response. To my relief, he either he didn’t hear the boy’s assessment or he decided to ignore him. Regardless it was all I could do to keep the food heading toward the stomach and not all over the table.  The boy apparently shares my belief, that all his father needs to hear is a sneeze and then boom he’s sick. Thankfully no one acknowledged the boy’s assessment which helped make for a peaceful evening at dinner and all the food I’d eaten stay put.

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