Boys Really Do Have Cooties

Back when I was with my ex, I'd get sick a couple times a year. Since we split up, I didn't get sick. Not once in nearly three years. Now I'm with Mr. Curls. Guess who's sick?

It's more than just coincidence. I swear. With my ex, I was working at the bar (can you say germ infested?) and after we split up, I was still working at the bar. So, the only change was the ex. Nearly three years after that, while I worked at the bar, taught undergrads on campus, and for a brief time, did both, I didn't get sick. And, lemme tell you, undergrads are not entirely sanitary and I don't even want to know what that stain on their paper is. Get me?

Then, Mr. Curls and BAM! cold. What's the difference? Not the job.

See, the thing is, when single, I only had my own germs to contend with and those could be fought with simple things like washing my hands a lot and not kissing students on the mouth. You know, common sense. Now I have my own germs, plus Mr. Curls' germs, which means all the everything he comes into contact with, plus, depending on what weekend it is, all the things his kids come into contact with. And, since I am kissing Mr. Curls on the mouth, it's not something that can be dodged through washing my hands a lot.

When I told Mr. Curls this, he didn't believe me. "I'm not sick," he said. "I couldn't have given anything to you." But, the facts speak for themselves ;)

Everything's a trade off. Being in a relationship with a guy I adore is lovely, but I could have passed on the sore throat, thank you very much.