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April 5, 2008

For the first time in 14 years, I have not had this exact conversation with The Wife:

Me: “I’m so sick!”
Her: (compassionately) “What’s wrong?”
Me: “Well, at first I thought it was allergies, but my throat is sore, and my joints ache, and I’m exhausted, and I just feel lousy.”
Her: (pausing, choosing words carefully) “…that sounds like allergies to me…”
Me: (indignant) “No, I said it started out like allergies, but it’s not that! I’m achy and tired and miserable!”
Her: (patiently) “Those are symptoms of allergies… You have the same symptoms every Spring.”
Me: (chagrined) “But I feel so sick…”
Her: “Your body thinks that it is sick; it is fighting off the allergens. Take some zubbadooda and some whichadrine, and you’ll feel better.”
Me: (moaning as I get up) “Are those the pink pills, or the red pills?”
Her: “Both.”
Me: “Okay, thanks.”

(Apparently, even an old dog like me can learn to self-diagnose.)

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