There's a bug in the house. Warm boy face. Rubbing a back as the antibiotics come right back up and splash in the toilet. Mounds of blankets and damp pillows on the sofa. A rumble in my chest. Trapped in the house. Binge-ing on well loved novels. Ginger ale and a green, bent straw. 

I'm trying to get back to the computer. I really should read something other than home decorating magazines and young adult novels. But right now, I feel like I'm walking through Jell-O.