It's like the plague

This is Quinn this morning. Notice the blotchy skin. The redness below the nose. The watery eyes. The chapped lips from breathing through his mouth.

Only a taste of what's to come, I'm sure.

Hadn't the heart to tell him we were missing group this morning. I mean, when your orange juice isn't in the right cup and it sends you into sobs of sad, snot-filled dejection, it's best to stay as up-beat as possible.

I'm hoping for a long nap and a break in the fever. Any minute now...