I'm SICK of this!

Sick of being sick.  Three (make that) Four days with a fever.  A real fever.  My sister, Jes-The-Nurse, says you don't really have a fever if the thermometer reads less than 100.5.  She explained it all to me when I called her and said I had a low-grade fever of 99.7... soon after, it was over 101, a real fever.  Of course, there's been coughing and achy muscles and a touch of delirium to go along with it.  I do have one thing going for me though, a secret weapon to help me battle Sick.  My Mooly.

A lot of things have changed as I grow up, and living at home at twenty-seven is a lot different than living at home at just-plain-seven.  But one thing will always be the same: when I'm sick, I need my Mooly.  Just look at that gentle, smiling face.  Who wouldn't need that in a fight against Sick?

Believe me when I say that my Mooly is a mighty warrior!  Her hands are just the right size and just the right cold for my hot head.  When she goes out, she brings me things I knew I needed (like Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream) and things I didn't know I needed (like mac and cheese from Panera... yum).  She massages my back with the electric massager.  She sits on the couch with me and watches hours of Project Runway (okay, we were already planning on doing that, but she didn't complain a single time about my loud-frequent-and-totally-obnoxious coughing).  She plays fetch with Dakota in the back yard.  And of all the times I asked her to get up and get me something, only once did she say, "You can get it yourself.  You need to get up for a little while.  And you probably need to go to the bathroom."  She was right.  I did need to go to the bathroom.

I have the best Mooly in the whole entire world.