After battling off a head cold last week, the boy grobblies got to my weakened state and have invaded my being. I have the worst cough. Honest to jeebers I sound like a pack of baying hounds crossed with Lauren Bacall right now. It would be kind of sexy but for the fact that every so often my voices cracks, squeaks and then hits my boots - my germ spreading son asked 'was my voice breaking?' - cheeky brat.
There is of the course the plus side of having a cold and a bunged up hooter -" what is that?" I hear the masses of people who read by blog (snort) cry............
I can't smell Dalmatian farts! And anyone who lives with a large, old and gaseous dog knows that a respite from that can be a boon to everyday life.
How's that for looking on the bright side?
I am now going to ensconce my ample booty onto the squishy sofa, catch up on listening to Escape Pod and the Dragon Pages on iTunes and knit me some socks! I might move to make tea but then again I may just dispatch the aforementioned germ carrier to do it for me.