A Virus Named Bob
We have named our virus. His name is Bob. He lives in my chest, my daughters ear and my sons nose. He moved in 8 weeks ago and refuses to leave. I’m hospitable by nature, but this is getting ridiculous. He comes and goes as he pleases, as if HE was making the mortgage payments.
It all started 8 weeks ago when he met my daughter at school. I know what you’re thinking, and no, he is not a pedo-viral. He’s just “Down on his luck” as he describes it. She brought him home and he took one look at my chest and said “That looks cozy.” I said “No problem”, just for a couple of days, right? Got him out of my daughters ear at least. So in he goes without so much as a thank you.
Come to find out, Bob’s a nomad, likes to move around. He told my cochlea he was “Between opportunities” and was “Looking for steady work.” Seems summer’s coming and his job prospects are starting to diminish. He said he wanted to end the season with a bang. Well, Cochlea, in all her infinite wisdom tells Bob that she heard they were hiring at Tonsil Town. Seems like she’s always getting information first. So off he goes to hang out with Sal Iva and Hal Itosis. Like those two need any encouragement.
Well, I sneezed in the kitchen 2 days ago, and Bob decided it was time for him to go. Sal left for a minute, but then came right back. Hal stayed put. We had garlic bread that night, and he LOVES garlic bread. My son came in from outside, panting after a game of basketball. Bob saw the opening and took it. Now Bob’s looking to move back in with me! Says my son has “Too many white cells.” If I’d know he was a racist, he would have been gone long before now. He has until tomorrow to clean out my lung and go. I don’t think he’ll put up much of a fight this time. He saw me unpacking the groceries today and saw the gallon of orange juice and the albuterol. He won’t be back. At least not this year.