As it gets warmer, my family unit is getting sicker. Paolo has a lingering runny nose, I'm recovering from a cold, and Sam came down with god-knows-what yesterday. He tried to pin it on me, but his symptoms are nothing like mine. For instance, I can get off the couch without sweating or blacking out. Last night Sam was hypothesizing about what illness he may have contracted. As every woman knows, when a man is sick, there has never been another human being sicker than he in the history of the world.
Sam: I think I have Lyme disease.
Me: You haven't been in the woods.
Sam: Maybe it's West Nile.
Me: or SARS
Sam: Oh, dude, I totally have SARS. (pause to blow nose) What did Terry Schiavo have?
Sam: I think I have Terry Schiavo.
As if it's not bad enough that he set himself on the fast-track to Hell with that depraved comment, I laughed so hard I ran out of air, so I'm for sure right behind him.