“The horror! The horror!”

Vivi and I grabbed lunch with a friend and her two kiddos last Friday. We met at a Chick-fil-a between our houses (she’s down South, I’m up North). I love Chick-fil-a. I have yet to find one that isn’t clean, and the service is always cheerful and swift. Also, who can beat a place that serves fried chicken AND chocolate shakes?

We sat in a booth next to the enclosed indoor playground. While the mommies stayed with the babies, the toddler went into the enclosure to play with other little children. My friend and I chatted away until, out of nowhere, I heard a loud smack on the glass window next to me.

With little hands smooshed up against the glass, there was a tiny stranger staring back at me. Green snot ran in thick streams out of his nose. I swear, I suppressed the urge to scream and snatch my baby to my chest. It was a scene straight from a virus epidemic horror movie.

In other news, I am a germaphobe.


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