Five Day Poetry Challenge, Day 4


I joined the YMCA so that I could get healthy. They have childcare, and you can shuck your kids there for up to two hours each day while you work out.

On day one or two of childcare, my baby girl caught a virus of the nose – the cruds, basically – and, of course, I caught it from her. So we’ve got colds: summer colds, which are more offensive.

I can’t breathe: sadly, this is nothing new. Whenever I get sick, it hits me in the sinus and lungs. I walk around wheezing like an old pipe organ, an old bellows.

I called my son, “Mr. Buggers” for a year, because I’d joined a different gym with a different childcare. He also had the cruds for as long as I dropped him off there. I think they just call it, “The Daycare Cold,” or “The Daycare Cruds.” I can’t really call my daughter “Mz. Buggers,” though. It just doesn’t work as a nickname for a little girl.

What is the point of working out to get healthy if you wind up with a goddamn cold?

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