Flu Alert Level: ORANGE

The doctor's office where I take my kids for the occasional tune-up has two separate entrances. One, is for "well patients." The other, for sick. If you've ever been around anyone under the age of 9, you will understand why this is funny. It's like owning a pig farm with a clean side and a dirty side. 

This time of year is especially fun. I usually ask, "what did you learn in school today?" Now, it's more like, "how many of your friends stayed home sick today?" Yesterday's tally was 4. I have calculated that this answer will cost me $28 in tuition. Math is fun.

Take vitamins. Get sleep. Don't touch anything, ever. That's the stuff they tell you to do. But, it isn't germs from the ATM or the elevator buttons that I'm worried about.

It's THEM.

They are a formidable enemy, waging an unstoppable biological war. I know they spend all day in meetings with their crusty-nosed brethren, conspiring to get back at us for accidentally deleting Barbie ™ Princess and the Popstar from the DVR. They know exactly what they're doing. Did they really forget to wash their hands? Did they really mistake your pillowcase for a napkin?

It's all part of their plan. I'm onto them. And I know I'm going to lose.