We had a nice little intimate thing going here.

My daughter and I share a deep, rough cough. It's pretty cute. First, she coughs (into her elbow as instructed at preschool--which apparently didn't help me), then it's my turn. For two days, she amped up her routine with a fever. I managed to avoid the 100+ dance. We share cough syrup from the same plastic midget cup with measuring lines.

Now, DH, my tough, risk-taking Alaskan (and wimpy sick guy) has thrown his entry into our little duet, bidding for a trio. He, however, must do it more dramatically, more 0-to-60, being all man, and all.

So I sit here, awake, alone, on the couch, armed with a small travel bottle of Purell, wondering if this bug is going to make another, furious loop of our germ circuit.

Or maybe I'll take the next off-ramp.

Are you all suffering with cold and flu season, just like the commercials say? Perhaps we are not alone in our musical, familial hacking.