Christmas Eve here in the South Bay, it was 78 degrees, cloudless skies - perfect. Except for my raging sore throat. By the time we sat down to our traditional Christmas Eve dinner, my nose was so stuffed up that I gasped like a fish out of water between bites.
Not my sexiest look.
Christmas morning the sore throat receded into the background, but I feared sneezing more than anything because the strafing left my throat so raw that I couldn't talk for several minutes afterwards. I went through the chills-overheated-chills cycle. My chest ached after coughing fits.
Even though I felt crappy, I almost went with the SO to the not-our-family-really-thank-goodness gathering. I'd been looking forward to the entertainment/ glimpse into lives I thankfully didn't have to live. More than that, following that party, the SO's true family was moving over to his mom's house for the first night of Hanukkah. The equation was pretty clear. Stay home = miss out on latkes, brisket, and kreplach soup. That was powerful incentive to drag my butt out of bed.
The SO was a little suspicious about the convenient timing of my illness. He knew how much I usually dreaded Christmas with the train-wreck family. He even tried a few experimental sniffles and coughs to see if he could get out of going. The lure of latkes proved too strong though, so he packed up the gifts for his nieces.
"If you're feeling up to it, I'll swing by and pick you up on the way to Mom's so you don't miss out on the fun part of the day. Call me," the SO said on his way out.
What a guy.
I felt worse through the evening, not better, so I never made the call. But as I looked at my assembled collection of pharmaceuticals to fight off this thing - airborne mega-vitamins, decongestant, pain reliever, NyQuil, throat lozenges, antihistamine, and Tylenol PM - it occurred to me that I finally got what I always wanted for Christmas. A chemistry set.