Author: Mark Boszko

I work from home today… it seems now is the time strange women with their children gather outside the den window of my apartment to await a bus… that doesn’t seem to actually stop here.

Afternoon kindergarten, I would wager, but two school busses drive past them on the inner drive of the complex without stopping.

Still they linger, outside my window. Now more have joined the pack. Ravenous wolves, awaiting their golden yellow feast.

Another bus now, in the opposite direction. They alight. The crowd beneath my window disperses as the young pups clamber to their seats, and the driver pushes on into the gloom.

Oh, did I say "fun?" I meant "illness."

I haven’t been online or talked to anyone (aside from a few fact-finding missions from the office) since late Sunday night now, because I have been seriously ill with whatever the rest of the family had last week. So many, many hours in front of the TiVo have been called for, and as a bonus, I am now waking up in the middle of the night feeling like I’ve just won a pig-greasing contest.

I love my kids to pieces, but I sure as hell wish I could seal them in plastic bubbles at the first sign of sickness. I’d be fun! They could roll around the house like gerbils!