I’m sure you all missed me yesterday, and believe me, I would have much rather been working for your entertainment than collapsed in my bed totally destroyed by a massive dose of the mega plague — courtesy of my nephew. I thought that providing care for adorable little children would be kind of a rad job, aside from poopy diapers and whining. Most of the time (when they’re not actively shitting themselves, or hatching a master plan to shit or piss on something else) my nephews are charming, funny, and cute as hell. At least that’s what I thought until yesterday. Today, I’m revising my opinion.
My nephew Avery has lately been infected with a cold. He’s been a little cranky, but he’s weathered the storm fairly well. He’s had a nasty cough and been a little feverish, but most of the time he’s just toddling happily around, chasing the dogs and laughing hysterically at dirt clods. Same old same old. I felt sorry for the poor raspy little thing, so I gave him lots of love . BIG MISTAKE! HUGE! The disease that failed to knock a one and a half year old down for five minutes felled me with such finality that I couldn’t lift my head for 24 hours except to expel massive phleghm globbers. I thought I was gonna die.
Because of this, I have decided that infant virology is a study unto itself. I’m pretty sure that unlike viruses that infect your regular, full-sized human, disease that inhabits fun-sized people operates more like a reverse ponzi scheme. Basically, the only way kids get rid of illness is to pass it on to adults, who in turn get about 1 billion times sicker than the kid ever got, thus resulting in a much more diseased world overall. Meanwhile, the kid gets the benefit of pretty much doing whatever he wants while the adult is too sick to stop him. Everybody wins — well, at least everybody on Team Cookie and Bubo.
Here is a comic I made to help illustrate my point: