Just because Monkey has this nasty cold and I woke up this morning feeling logy and thick and sluggish does not mean that I am coming down with his cold.
Just because I never actually, you know, stop kissing him on the mouth until he’s leaking snot from every visible orifice doesn’t mean I’m prone to picking up his virus. I mean, I drink ORANGE JUICE. That stuff is like Kryptonite to cold viruses. For Otto, anyway.
Just because I have this weird cold sore thing that sprang up yesterday on the wayyyyyyy back left side of my tongue (in an impossible place to view, but likewise in an impossible place not to move/bump/feel any time I eat or talk) does not mean I am getting sick. Because I’m not.
And all the things that pissed me off yesterday don’t mean I’m getting sick, either.
Just because I carefully shopped for groceries over the weekend and then had to go back to the store yesterday for a forgotten ingredient and maybe cried a little bit about it does not mean I’m getting sick. Portabellos make me emotional, okay?
Just because we were having guests for dinner and yet I somehow managed to TURN THE OVEN OFF while the lasagna was supposed to be cooking doesn’t mean I wasn’t feeling well. I felt perfectly FINE. Our guests were delightful, and unfazed by the delay in our meal’s start. (Also: Convection functionality on the oven for the WIN, and also for cooking lasagna in half the time when you’ve somehow turned the oven off earlier and then say Many Bad Words upon realizing your error.)
Just because I made a special veggie risotto for me and Chickadee (no lasagna noodles for me, no lasagna meat for her)—which meant spending half an hour stirring instead of being hostess-y—and she didn’t like it and my feelings were hurt doesn’t mean I’m getting sick. It just means she’s rotten and ungrateful. Obvs.
Just because I was on our state’s tax commissioner website last night trying to renew our vehicle registrations and had to type everything in twice because I hit the wrong button the first time and THEN discovered that to pay it online I also had to pay a “convenience fee” and said MANY BAD WORDS at the computer before giving up and just writing the damn check, doesn’t mean I’m getting sick. It means I find that website stupid. And ugly. And its mother dresses it funny.
Just because I went back to bed this morning after everyone left doesn’t mean I’m ill, it just means I figured a little extra beauty rest was a good idea, especially on a rainy day.
Hmph. Now you whippersnappers get off of my lawn, before I chase you with a baseball bat. (Uh, except I don’t have a baseball bat, and let’s face it, I’m unlikely to venture out in the rain. So I guess you’re safe.)