Usually I’m not ever worried about my kids getting sick. It’s pretty rare that any of us do, and if we do it lasts only a day or two. Even then, it’s a mild fever and loss of appetite. I mean, I’ve had the pukes a couple of times, but that was due to bad tacos or something. Other than that, sniffles, headache, and well, all around puny.

Last time I had the actual flu, I was in Jr. High. I started feeling bad around 4th hour. My head slowly got closer to my desk, and by 6th hour choir, I didn’t think I was going to make it.

I got off the bus s-l-o-w-l-y and made, what seemed, the long walk down the driveway. My mom remembers this day. From her point of view, she knew it the minute I stepped off the bus.

Slowly, my bag dropped, shoes off, coat off, and to the bathroom to get rid of all I had for lunch.

I was down for well over a week. I actually told my mom I didn’t think I would ever feel better. I watched my fair share of Scooby-Doo and The Cosby Show that’s for sure. And this before the days of DVR and pause. Times were rough, indeed. To this day, I don’t drink Sprite or 7-Up just for kicks. Blech.

So, I just don’t want to see my kids go through it. Hand washing has become a norm and the girls snicker about my new found germ phobia. Hey, if I can keep the pukes at bay…I will.

However, if one of the gets it, I’ll cover the couch with a nice, cool sheet, place a garbage can by them, find Scooby-Doo or The Cosby Show reruns, and set the DVR for whatever they want. I might even share a nice cold glass of Sprite with them. …. or not.