Sickies

I haven't been sick in a long time. As in, I can't really remember the last time I actually got sick-sick, but I 'm confident it was before or when Brody and I were living in our first apartment. Bristlecone, a gem of a complex in Holladay Utah that is one of the last things in the universe you can't Google because the management is just that lazy.  It was a dump, but a cheap dump, and it worked for our first apartment.  We had a severe mold issue in our bathroom, our garbage disposal would break after every use, and when the Qwest guy was installing our internet he told me that the apartments hadn't changed a bit since he and his wife lived there when they were first married.....in the 70's.  It didn't even have a smoke detector, which is absolutely illegal, and I cringe a little bit now, knowing that we now pay three times as much rent as we did then, but with all its faults, there was a silver lining to living there, (and not just great stories to tell our children someday when they whine about their crappy college apartments). 

Through some combination of the mold spores, 20-year-old carpet, and I can only assume asbestos in the walls, our immune systems got pretty strong living there...kind of like when someone lives in a third-world country for a few years.  We could hold sick nieces and nephews, work in the nursery at church, and eat Betos without ever getting sick.

But alas, the streak is over, and we've basically been lounging around in our pj's and sweats all weekend watching How I Met Your Mother on Netflix.  Both of us with sore throats and coughs, scratchy man-voices, and wishing it was the Ravens vs. the 49's.