Someone put me out of my misery…please

I think my head is going to explode.

No, really.

I caught my son’s plague cold, and now I can hardly think because my head is throbbing with each tap of a letter on the keyboard.

My brother has suggested that I try a sinus rinse for just such occasions.  But when I try to picture myself sticking that thing in my nose, images of Jack Bauer interrogating yet another bad guy flash to mind.  Isn’t someone in Congress trying to outlaw nettie pots water boarding?

Not to mention, I don’t know if I could stomach the things I might see.  I have a hard enough time watching my kids blow their noses.

But if this headache doesn’t go away soon, someone is going to suffer.  More than likely it will be the four year old who insists on crashing Matchbox cars right next to my ear.  And he’s the one who passed on the disease.  That’s two marks against him.

For now, I guess I’ll go find me some cold meds so that as soon as the little bugger heads off to preschool (does it matter that he’s still coughing up a lung?), I can disappear into the blackhole of drugged sleep.

Sweet bliss, I call thee NyQuil.