Day 2: Squealer

The terrible sound you hear inside your skull after you blow your nose that accompanies the snot as it rushes back into your head.

Plaguesauce

Report from the field…

The whole family has been hit with some sort of end-of-days style necromantic plague. It came from the depths like some Lovecraftian pit beast and corrupted our lungs and throats before we had a chance to react and call the CIDPC.

Now we lay in tatters, scattered around the house on different couches and beds like the discarded tissues that fill our wastebin. We cling to the mantra, “the juice will save us” as we devour what remains of Florida’s citrus juice reserves. I am beginning to doubt this is true.

For us parents: our outlook is grim. Sore, aching joints buckle under intense coughing fits that bring up an unholy ichor. Batteries on phones and laptops hover around the 13% mark as we are too beset to conduct recon maneuvers to recover their chargers.

As for the offspring, the 3DSXL and Princess movies keep them stationary and relaxed and distracted from the terrible war being waged within their little bodies. This entertainment serves a dual purpose: parallel to the distraction, it is also a chance for the parents to catch a few desperate minutes of sleep before the next found of gloopy noses and juice cup refill requests come pouring in.

Pray for us.