Loyal Dadwagon readers will remember that the last time I went off on a trip—less than a month ago, in fact—my wife and daughter instantly fell ill. There was much coughing, many aches, and copious quantities of mucus released from various facial orifices. No one in our corner of Brooklyn was very happy.
Then I came home from Italy and everyone was magically restored to the kind of robust good health they normally enjoy.
Now I’m off on a trip again (walking from Vienna to Budapest, if you’re wondering), and Jean is laid up with a sinus infection of some kind, whose symptoms Sasha seems to be acquiring. I have one question: What the hell?
I mean, I feel guilty enough being away from my family all the time, but when they’re suffering through spring illnesses it’s even worse. I should be there to take care of Sasha instead of sending her to preschool, and to make Jean hot-and-sour soup the way she likes it, with lots of daikon and black mushrooms. Unfortunately, I’m not, and I also can’t help but wonder: Am I bringing these diseases home from trips, infecting my family as a reward for their misery in my absence? Wait, that’s reversing cause and effect, but still: This sucks—for them much more than for me. All I can say is: Get better, and I’ll be home soon, for a while this time. (I think.)