by Bella Rum
I’ve told so many boohoo stories of late that you’re probably thinking this is a rehash of a previous boohoo story, but you’d be wrong. This is a fresh one. I’m sick: sore throat, congestion, etc. I know you’re thinking for sure that I’m bound to have complained about being sick at some point over the past couple of months. Again, you’d be wrong.
I NEVER get sick.
That is crazy to even type that. Tempting the fates that are in charge of such things, that’s me. Let me double down on that, won’t you? I’d go so far as to say that I’m the luckiest person on the planet when it comes to getting sick. I mean NOT getting sick. I can’t tell you when I last had a cold or flu or anything like that.
Beware! She’s a germ factory, and she will, with malice and forethought, smear every juicy, slobbery microorganism known to man all over you. I must heal and regain my normal vigor before future contact so I can spend another few weeks recuperating from more kisses and snuggles.