I am officially sick. Achey, flushed, sore throat, fever, headache.
And my brother is here.
He has a knack of showing up whenever I want him not to. Extra tired? Sick? Cranky? It’s almost guaranteed that he’ll be on my couch when I arrive home.
Can’t I just come home and wallow in my misery alone? Sigh.
At least I’ve got supplies for chicken soup, and the brother only stayed long enough to shower and iron and head off to work.
Now all I need to do is get better.