Whatever fresh form of hellish virus my kids brought home nearly three friggin weeks ago, is walking all over me.
My lungs hate me, and this state of affairs has drawn his attention. He is rudely suspicious that I'm not taking enough medicine, and takes every possible opportunity to
He also seems to think that I'm pretending to be in better condition than I actually am.
Geez, what happened to all that important trust stuff everyone keeps going on about? The man continually insists on doing it wrong!