It’s that time of year again. That’s right, the time of year when the news reports feature lots of stories about the flu accompanied by images of people in hospital beds and needles dripping with flu vaccine jabbing people in the arms. It’s also the time of year when we hear reports that most states are short on flu vaccine so you better go out and get yours as soon as possible.
Normally I scoff at flu season. I live in a shiny internet bubble where my contact with the outside world is limited. It’s kind of like John Travolta in The Boy in the Plastic Bubble only with less drama and more computers.
This year I was one of the lucky few to come down with a case of the flu. The good thing about having the flu is that it got me out of cooking for four whole days. I can’t decide what’s worse a fever, achy joints, and feeling generally miserable or cooking dinner. I’m leaning towards cooking dinner.
I got the flu from my stepson who got it from his mother who got it from work, I guess. This is what happens when you come into contact with actual living human beings during the course of your day.
The whole time I was sick my husband kept telling me that he wasn’t going to get sick because his immune system is so much stronger than mine and if I ate less cake I wouldn’t have gotten the flu in the first place. How could you blame the flu on something as wonderful as cake?
Well, guess who has the flu now. That’s right, Mr. Too-Good-For-Cake-Iron-Clad-Immune-System. Maybe someone’s been eating cake at his gigs. How else would he have gotten the flu?
A few days ago as he lay in bed delirious with fever he admitted that I won. “What’s that?” I asked delighted.
“You won. I admit it. You won,” he repeated.
I walked silently out of the bedroom pulling the door closed behind me. Then I clasped onto the floor in a fit of laughter. There’s nothing like the joy of victory. It is definitely worth a few days in bed with the flu.