November 28-December 1, 2011
When the kids get sick, I will either duck it completely or they will mutate it into a quantum hybrid supervirus tailored specifically to my DNA. I still occasionally check for hidden biolabs under their beds or in their closets, but have not found anything conclusive. In late November, my son Devlin was sick and home for an entire week. By the time he went back to school, I was ready to move into a plastic tent with people in biohazard suits sticking me with needles. Sophie caught it too, but she had the unmutated version and bounced right back. Needless to say, I didn't write either note. Our friends knew I spent that week praying for death. I still got a lot of grief for not writing those notes. If it happens again, I fear they will form a mob with torches and pitchforks.