Insert Creative Title about having Covid here
“I have a headache,” I said, reaching for the bottle of ibuprofen in our cupboard.
“Should we take your temp?”
“Maybe later, I need to start dinner.”
“Let’s just take it,” my husband handed me the thermometer. He had read a few days earlier that frequent temperature checks were now commonplace in China and had been taking his on the daily ever since.
“99.5.”
“Is that bad,” our eleven-year-old asked, his eyebrows squeezed together. “Are you sick, Mom?”
I looked my husband. He held my gaze briefly before we both turned to look at him.
“Nah,” I said. “I’m probably just hot from cleaning the bathroom or something. I’ll take it again after dinner.”
By the time we finished dinner and the ibuprofen had kicked in, I was feeling better and my temperature was 98.9. Just a fluke, we figured, and when we woke up in the morning, we had all but forgotten about it.
But by 11am, as I sat on the couch attempting to write while our boys busied themselves with online classes and practicing Spanish and working on…
