My favourite kind

My favourite kind of poorly is one not many can imagine. Its not one parallel to war hunger or famine.

It is however one of siblings, twins to be precise. The kind where there’s two of everything, everywhere, twice!

They’re rarely poorly at the same time, its always staggered, taking it in turns means Mommy is always shattered!

One is horizontal, doing the dying fly and the other is full of beans asking 400 questions; what’s this? Where and why?

“Hold me Mommy”, she says with a plea. Ok just a little while and then I really must wee!

There’s piles of washing everywhere covered in sick snot and germs, a trip to the doctor, a chest infection I question and he confirms.

So while the smallest whimpers away the day and into the night, the other bounces off the walls kept inside until her sister is right.

It will only be so long, until you catch it too, then it will be your turn to produce vast quantities of goo!

My favourite kind of poorly is not this at all, I was joking really, I’m almost crawling the wall!

The two of you are taking it turns to catch the winter bugs, I’m sure it’s so you can get plenty of extra hugs.

Twins that are poorly are hard to entertain. They’re tired from all the coughing; pyjamas and Thomas, your favourite train.

Everything is bleached, boiled and cleansed. UV sunshine and windows open; your immune system and I making amends.

Get well soon my babies, the Spring will be here soon. Then it will be hayfever all the way into June!

So for now I’ll carry on worrying and dishing out the hugs as long as Daddy keeps the tea coming in those big flowery mugs.

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