One of six escaped. Of course, none of the those ever expected a need for escape. It was Christmas afterall and their home seemed safe enough. But safe enough could not protect those within, as a predator set its sights on each and every one of them. For the next three days, the family endured battle after battle with their adversary, one by one taking a hit. Finally, when only three remained, there appeared a lull, and for the first time, victory appeared imminent. Alas, it was all an illusion as within hours two more fell victim.
Only when 72 hours had passed was it clear that the evil norovirus was gone.
One of six escaped it, her hands red, cracked and burned from days and days of handwashing.
How was your Christmas? Mine was good, save for the four straight days of stomach virus hell that worked it’s way through every single member of my family except for me. It started on Wednesday night and continued until the day after Christmas. Baking, merry-making, and general festivities and family seeing all took a hit. I know that my obsessive handwashing is what kept me germ free and never in my LIFE have my hands been so red and raw. On the bright side, next year outta be fabulous. It has to be right?
Despite it all, we really did have a good Christmas. A little untraditional perhaps, and I’m sure forever to be remembered as: “Hey, you member that one time when evraone was sick as a dog all Christmas?” Still, I can’t help but think that the first Christmas was right up there with untraditional. Untraditional circumstances, untraditional guests (animals anyone), and an untraditional king. Nothing like what they were hoping for and what they had their minds set on so fiercely. I’m kinda glad they were wrong.
And that’s what Christmas is all about….Charlie Brown.