An Open Letter: Germs, I Hate You

Dear Germs,

I don't even feel right saying "dear" before that salutation because, frankly, I hate you.

After a relatively easy summer in which we avoided major illness, the dreaded school year brought you back in droves. In fact, I don't think I've had the pleasure of both my children attending a full week of school since early October.

Mary Ingalls. From the prairie.

First you hit us with scarlet fever. Seriously? In urgent care with Abby and I feel like I'm back on the Oregon Trail. My initial thought was that I was dealing with something life threatening because, really, didn't Mary Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie lose her eyesight that way?

"... the doctor told Charles that scarlet fever had weakened the nerves in Mary's eyes and she didn't have much time left before she would go blind."

Turns out, it's essentially a strain of strep throat that has an accompanying rash. It was, however, fun to tell people she had scarlet fever because they would immediately gasp and say, "oh my God,"  clearly back on the Oregon Trail themselves.

Yes, I'm an ass. 

You couldn't just leave it there. Before the fun of scarlet fever could leave us altogether, it had to make the rounds to Jack and then back to Abby once again.

I hate you.

I believe croup was next. You give us a heavy dose of mucous (the gift that keeps on giving) and we think we're in the clear. Then our children end up sounding like seals. Most recently we hosted a round of pink eye that gave me the pleasure of chasing Abby around the house with drops before pinning her to the ground and prying her eyes open. A combination of the squirrel scene from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation and that torture scene in Conspiracy Theory with Mel Gibson.

While those are the highlights, the real reason I loathe you is the snot. The ever-present, disgusting, color-changing, puke-inducing, sleep-affecting snot. We think it's gone before it magically reappears. It results in raw noses that Abby won't let me apply Vaseline to because she would rather reject an idea of mine than actually feel better.

Snot that has resulted in us purchasing more tissues than I'd care to remember. Snot that my husband is way too excited to suck out with the Graco battery-operated aspirator. Honestly, I'll hear him sucking snot and then, "Whoa, that's a good one." Fantastic.

In closing, I would simply like to reiterate the fact that I hate you. While it may seem ridiculous, it is a healthier behavior than blaming the droves of children that came back from summer break after my kids had an illness-free three months. Because that would be silly of me to do. To blame innocent kids. The little germ factories.

So, while I try to tell myself that this is strengthening the immune systems of my kids, I would like to inform you that I am beyond sick of the sick and the snot-sucking, Vicks rubbing and Motrin giving that comes along with it.

Go away already. You've outstayed your welcome.

Sincerely,

Chrissie