The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

20 Dec

It’s that time of year where I eye my parents suspiciously, and being out of the house (either at work or socialising) becomes a much more inviting prospect than staying at home.

Basically, I got home tonight to find my Dad lying on the sofa (nothing unusual so far) watching Countryfile (still nothing weird) with eyes like Howard Moon. 

“Are you sick? What’s wrong with your eyes? They’re all small and swollen up. They look really sore – do they hurt? Are they itchy? Have you been sneezing or anything? How long have they been like that for? Do you need me to get anything from work tomorrow for you?”

Navigating all the unwell people at work is tricky enough, but now I have to keep a bottle of hand sanitiser on me at all times, and try not to touch a single thing, which is exceptionally tricky. I tried to get all my illness out of the way early on this season, because I really don’t fancy spending any of Christmas and New Year sat with my head over a bowl of hot water hoping that it’ll clear my sinuses. That’s probably jinxed me now though. Good one, Zoe.

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