The Pox Report

Chicken Pox is not much fun when you’re a grown-up. I don’t think it’s much fun for kids either – Pip and Griff didn’t seem to be having a ball.

I am still picking off scabs (to admonishment from Pip) but generally back on my feet. It’s kind of a novelty having a short-term illness, especially a childhood one in adulthood. It never felt that serious, just inconvenient. Anyway, it was a nice chance to get a bit of sympathy… kind of.

Doctor: “Wow, you got it bad, didn’t you? So, how did you escape it as a child?”
Me: “Um… I was kept isolated from other children throughout my whole childhood? I don’t know!”

Me (putting down phone): Well – just found out my baby has chicken pox.
Colleague: Oh well, it could be worse.
Me: Gee, thanks!
Colleague: Well… it could.

But the prize goes to Mr H. Harold.

Me: Anyway, I’ve got the chicken pox.
Haroldo Harold: Oh, you tit!