Who Invited You to Thanksgiving, Seda Moon?

So, just who invited you to thanksgiving, Seda Moon, you and your billions of highly contagious germs? One by one we've all of us, to a man, caught your rotten cold. I mean, for god's sake, even the freaking dog is coughing. What? You think just because you're the daughter of my sister that means you can come waltzing in as you please, eating turkey and spreading bacteria all over the whole damned state of Ohio? Oh, please, don't even try to pull that "part of the family" card. Cripes, that bloodline crap is soo tired. You think you're born and, voila!, you get a free pass? Well, not from me, toots. Hell, you've only been part of the family for three stinking years! Sure you do some cute things from time to time, when you're not doing your best impersonation of a petri dish. And is a little cuteness worth all you're putting us through? Gagging on my umpteenth dose of cough medicine, I have to wonder.

Now you're gone, but your infernal germs remain. Who knows how many bedridden patients you'll have been responsible for when all is said and done. Hundreds? Thousands? And let's not forget the hours lost at work, doctors' bills, skyrocketing health insurance costs. And never mind that I've run through enough Kleenex to deforest half the Midwest. Really, you're like some microbe-ridden, one-person wrecking crew, aren't you?

Anyways, I'm taking my grippe and going to bed. Hope you're happy, you little so-and-so.

With all my love,

uncle nwb

Pictured above: Seda Moon, purveyor of germs.