Baby Makes

We’re hitting the cottage for a week. See you later.

Before:

After:

I would have started with Dear Strep, but you aren’t every dear to me, so I’m starting this letter like I would a conversation with someone I HATE.

I thought I was pretty clear in my last letter to you when I suggested that going somewhere else with your bacterial invasion would be a better idea than kicking around Cameron’s throat. In fact, I think there may have been some threatening, and there may have been some swear words. So you can understand why I’m a little perplexed to have received the throat swab results of the test taken on Wednesday. You can understand, Strep, that because I HATE you so much, I am not happy to see you disregarded my passionate pleas and warnings to stay away.

Cameron, you may as well know, has started antibiotics and is expected to recover well. He has maintained his sunny disposition, for the most part, despite your relentless pain and swelling, and proved to be a total charm this evening when Stef Hizzle came for supper, even offering a kiss and a wave at bedtime.

I know I don’t have to tell you again that you are not welcome here, but I’ll tell you anyway. You, Strep, are not welcome here. Take your infection, and get lost. Don’t come back. Don’t come back here EVER.

Thanks, Kate.