Well, since before Thanksgiving, the thinkdaddy family has been passing an illness around to each other. It's the ultimate re-gift. Sore Throat. Boogers. Cough. Pissy Attitude. It's all in there.
Of all of us, Riley is the worst at handling being sick. Like most humans, the feeling of snot running out of the nose is most uncomfortable. Riley, however, takes her reaction to the event to the level of high drama. At the mere hint of moisture leaving her nose, she bellows, "Kleenex!!!!!!" She delivers the line in the same way that an actor in a war picture would call for a medic the SECOND time in a scene. You know the scene . . . you've seen it a hundred times:
EXT. BATTLEFIELD. WE'VE JUST SEEN A YOUNG SOLDIER (PVT. PAWN) GET CREAMED BY A MORTAR. HIS SUPERIOR OFFICER AND MENTOR (SGT. ROOK) RUNS TO THE FOXHOLE WHERE PVT. PAWN IS LAYING IN BLOOD.
Sarge . . . tell my mom that . . . I love . . . (gurgle, gurgle)
You'll tell her yourself, Soldier. I'm not going to let you die on me . . .
(GURGLE . . . GURGLE)
Hold on, Private. MEDIC!!!!!!!
It's that second "medic" that is the key. Now imagine instead of "MEDIC!!" you hear a 3-year old yelling "Kleenex!!!!" Hearing her, you would think that her arms just fell off and she couldn't figure out how to pick them up. Once she is given (or gets) a tissue, she roughly rubs it just once, from the tip of her nose down to her chin. She really only hits snot 50% of the time.
Now . . . this tragic scene repeats itself about once every 3 minutes for, let's say, 4 days. By the middle of day 3, her upper lip is so red, raw and nigh-bloody that she looks like all we let her drink is scalding hot Cherry Kool-Aid. She's miserable. Mommy and I are miserable. Emily is as miserable as a 6-month old can be and is now STARTING to get the illness. It's a real fucking party.
In the midst of this latest outbreak, we start running out of food and (surprise, surprise) Kleenex. It's obvious that I need to load up the car and take our little viral circus on the road to the grocery store.
So now I'm the stinky, un-showered and coughing daddy who is trying to soothe the crying, snotty infant in the baby seat, while trying desperately to reign in the coughing, sneezing, snotty, Kool-Aid stained 3-year old who hasn't been out of the house for three days and is touching and kissing and coughing and sneezing on every piece of produce that she can get her hands on. She literally kissed a grapefruit and told me it was her favorite. She's never had grapefruit. By my calculations, she turned about 2 oranges, 4 pears, 3 apples, a bunch of parsley . . . and, of course, one grapefruit into her own little Petri dish.
I tried to stop her. Seriously, I did. She was crazed like a dog let out of a cage. Part of me felt like I should buy everything that she touched just to stop an outbreak. Part of me felt like I should get the hell out of there before my luck totally broke and she barfed on the shallots.
This story should be reason #532 why you should wash all of your produce. No . . . seriously . . . scour that shit because it probably has snot on it. Wash it twice if you live near us.