Nooooooooo!

My mom is very, very sick. ("Cough-cough," she coughs as I type this. "Cough-cough.") It might be the flu, it might just be a heinous cold. (As opposed to a righteous cold. A cold! Excellent! Party on, Bill! Party on, Ted!)

I told her to keep her nasty plague-germs away from me. It's the beginning of the semester and I can't afford to be sick. I can't afford to be dog-sick, as she is, at all this semester. I. Must. Do. Well. That means A's, or at least B+'s.

But I have that hot, scratchy tickle in my throat which usually heralds a cold. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. I'd beat her up with a aluminium baseball bat for potentially making me sick if I weren't mooching food, transportation, and housing off of her.