Bigger is not always better

She’s a quarter of my weight, just shy of half my height, and one tenth my age. In other words, much smaller than me. So why is it that when she gets a cold, it’s less than 24 hours of the most mild cough and sniffles, and when I get the same cold, I feel like I’ve been put onto a tortilla press and flattened into oblivion? And to add insult to injury, she’s not at all sympathetic to my pleas that we talk quiet, please and all take a nap, please and try not to make Mommy move, please when I was at her beck and call to cuddle and comfort and wipe snot and be coughed on while she was under the weather. Which might explain why I’m so much sicker than she was.

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