My soon-to-be brother-in-law and prospective nephew spent the weekend to get fitted for wedding suits. Prospective Nephew is 6 years old and attends1st grade at a giant petri dish the state government likes to call a public school. As a childless young(ish) professional, I have no resistance to child germs. As a result, I am now disgustingly ill. As are all the other young(ish) professionals that live in my house. Walking through the hallways has become a total sensory experience, as each bedroom emanates menthol vapo-rub, cherry cough syrup, licorice NyQuil, citrus vitamin C lozenges, and a symphony of sneezes, coughs, and nonspecific hacking.
Our susceptibility to child germs reminds me of the Simpsons episode where Marge led PPASSCCATAG (Proud Parents Against Singles, Seniors, Childless Couples & Teens & Gays), an organization opposing SSCCATAGAP (Singles, Seniors, Childless Couples and Teens, and Gays Against Parasitic Parents) in a campaign to end property taxes supporting schools. The parents ultimately won by turning to biological warfare–releasing their children to hug the opposition, thereby infecting them with a myriad of child germs and rendering them too ill to vote down the school budget. As a proud member of AFLCATACAFC, I have always had a fondness for exceedingly long acronyms.
Or maybe I have just been “working from home” and watching daytime syndicated Simpsons for 48 hours straight…
Either way, I wouldn’t recommend coming over to play poker tonight. You would be gambling with your lives. If anyone else wants to step up and host, and if there is quorum minus Goodman and me, then perhaps poker can go forward. Otherwise, looks like the children left us behind.