Papa Old is Sick

Sorry about the lack of a post yesterday, but I've been feeling a bit under the weather. It's an odd feeling, this not wanting to infect a loved one. Pre-Young Old, I actively tried to get Mama K sick, as it usually meant a day or two off from work together, bundled up in blankets, watching strange foreign films and slurping homemade chicken soup. The life. Post-Young Old, that's all changed...I don't want to even breath near him, for fear of killing him with the common cold. I know it's silly, and paranoid, but he's just so fragile, so immature, so...wittle. Yes, my rational brain understands that Mama K's breastmilk is chock-full of anti-germ serum, but no matter, that reptilian lower brain of mine tells me to "Watch the fuck where you're breathing. And don't you dare touch his face without a triple handwash in near scalding-hot water, Stupid." So Mama K, bless her lovely caring heart, has been picking up the slack, doing most of the diaper changes (suckaaaa!) and chest-naps. I was feeling better this morning, but now *wink* I think I'm developing a cough; I only jest...this sickness can't pass quick enough. I'm more than ready for some Young Old kisses and snuggles. I miss my boy...