Chelsea v Arsssss.... zzzzzzzzzz
Apparently One Defies Biology AT ONE'S PERIL

Fortuna Audaces Luvat

Aw... rattlesnakes.

Edward's cough had almost disappeared and then boom! Or rather rattle! Honk? Bark, maybe. It's a hard sound to describe and if we hadn't just treated him for pneumonia I would assume he's picked up a little virus and ignore it accordingly. Actually I was all set to assume it was a virus - pneumonia be damned - but Steve (Steve of all people) said that we obviously need to take him to the doctor.

I replied that it was probably just a cold and Edward interjected, "But when I cough, I smell a smell."

"What kind of smell?" I asked.

"A cough smell," he said. "Like before."

I twisted my lips and glowered at him because I do actually know what he is talking about - that kind of, I don't know, infected flavor that I remember from true sinus infections or the one time I had bronchitis.

"Edward," I said, "I forbid you to get sick again. Got it? You were just sick and Caroline was sick before that and Patrick had something or other in between - I am done with sick. It's finally nice outside and you will be healthy."

Edward looked at me from the cocoon of blankets in which he and Steve were huddled on the couch and asked, "Do you remember that notebook?"

"The one in which you wrote down my faults? Sure. Do you want it?"

"Yes please," he said. "And a pencil."

I went to get it for him and watched in amusement as he carefully printed "4/27  - Mom does not know biology." 

This is more or less true. I got a D in AP Bio (a D. final. and a 2 on the exam. it was all just. so. booooorrring and it didn't help that my older brother had been one of Dr. D's' once or twice in a teaching career students. what high hopes she must've had when she spied our last name yet again upon her course roll and how very very very disappointed she was in me. 

where was I?)

Oh. Right.

I don't have to know biology to defy it. That was my point and that was the sound of Edward rolling his eyes at me.

That said, I hope I can get him into our actual doctor tomorrow (we saw a walk-in person before and although I am sure she was perfectly competent I have a near fanatical passion for continuity of care after the Great Patrick Bacterial Infection Debacle of 2009 during which we saw walk-in after walk-in until he wound up hospitalized) and I hope he agrees that it's just a cold.

Or Else.

PS After years of arguing with Edward about the necessity of doing... whatever, I struck upon a new technique. Flush with heady power after banning illness from the home, I swooped down upon Edward tonight and carried him bodily to the bath; where I stripped him with one hand and tossed him in.  

No discussion. No listening to his litany of everything he would rather be doing. Just a little squirming, some kicking, a few calls of "Caroline! My Caroline! Help me! Mom is abjecting* me!" before a splash and a gasp.

"I'm not taking a bath!" he cried.

"Too late," I pointed out, "you already are."

I have no idea why I didn't do this sooner.

*Abducting I think. Possibly overlaid with subjecting. Or objecting.

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