The Twelve Days of Flu Seas’n

The entire family has endured a one-two punch this flu season. First it was the “Lose 4 Pounds in 24 Hours” bug that flattened us like dominoes. Just when the last one recovered, along came the “Knock You On Your Back High Fever” bug. So many bugs, so few exterminators. In the event the flu has not hit your family yet, I have set our cautionary tale to song. Take heed. And a face mask.

On the first day of flu seas’n my true love gave to me a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the second day of flu seas’n my true love gave to me two Tylenol and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the third day of flu seas’n my true love gave to me flat 7UP, two Tylenol and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the fourth day of flu seas’n my true love gave to me trashcan by the bed, flat 7UP, two Tylenol, and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the fifth day of flu seas’n my true love gave to me a temp of one-oh-three. Hand sanitizer, three cans of Lysol, two dozen face masks and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the sixth day of flu seas’n my true love gave to me sprints to the bathroom and a temp of one-oh-three. Head in the toilet, flat 7UP, two Tylenol and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the seventh day of flu seas’n my true love sighed to me “Digital thermometer, salt water gargle, when will this end?” Hand sanitizer, flat 7UP, two Tylenol and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the eighth day of flu seas’n my true love gave to me a trip to MedCheck, report on the family, muscle aches and chills, a temp of one-oh-three. Hand sanitizer, flat 7UP, two Tylenol, and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the ninth day of flu seas’n, my true love gave to me respiratory gunk, antibiotics, news the kids all have it, muscle aches and chills, a temp of one-oh-three. Wadded up tissues, flat 7UP, two Tylenol and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the tenth day of flu seas’n my true love said to me: “They’re sniffling in Chicago, puking in Missouri, sick as dogs in Tennessee.” Rumbling in the tummy, flat 7UP, two Tylenol and a big, sloppy, wet sneeze.

On the eleventh day of flu seas’n my true love snarled at me: “Where’s that vaporizer, blast those antibiotics, what good was that MedCheck, you’re still lethargic, here’s an extra blanket and why are you still one-oh-three? That cough is horrific, 7UP is sick’ning and cover your face when you sneeze!”

On the twelfth day of flu seas’n my true love said to me: “You’re no longer chilling, your temperature is normal, you look healthy to me. But I’m feeling dizzy, my head is hurting, my stomach is churning, how can this beeeeeee?”

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