On winning differently

So you seem to have failed at this year’s NaBloPoMo third day out, but to be fair you have only just got home from work, you are ill, and it is a holiday tomorrow.

Today.

Whatever.

I don’t know why you didn’t realise that moving countries and flinging your children into a new school each would mean that they hit every germ on the way down, and then give them to you.

You have resorted to giving them extra vitamins. Squishy bear vitamins. Not like in your day, when it was a spoonful of orange flavoured vitamin C fortified cod liver oil throughout your childhood. Ineffectually, you suspect, given quite how often you got tonsillitis. Or the giant capsules your Granny Rod sent you at Uni, which you took mainly because you felt quite loved by her insistence over them.

Anyway. I seem to remember it took you and the Star the better part of a year to build up a resistance when he started English school, so expect many more moaning posts between now and then. Except more so, because now the Comet and Babushka have joined in the fun.

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