I took a home COVID test yesterday… my first time having to do that. Initially, I believed the result was positive because it turned pink right away, and there was a pink line and a blue line… I knew seeing two lines wasn’t good.
I immediately quarantined myself in our bedroom and sealed the door shut with duct tape. I thought about digging a moat around the bed to keep intruders at a distance but decided not to… just like I chose NOT to wait the required fifteen minutes for the test to run its course.
The test (on the table in our den) continued to do its thing while I was barricaded in the bedroom. In the end, the blue line disappeared leaving just the one pink line… a negative result.
When informed of this, I released myself from quarantine and strolled down the hallway as if I were Jake Blues on the day he was released from Joliet. Our daughter Cassandra called and told Laura that it takes two pink lines for a positive result… “Just like a pregnancy test,” she said. Never having taken a pregnancy test, I remarked something to the effect “Yeah, I take those tests all the time… it being modern times and all.”
I looked at Laura and said, “You better not get me pregnant.”
Anyway… I don’t have COVID… just a waning head cold. Even though I lost my voice for a while, I'm feeling much better… mostly thanks to Laura. She takes such good care of me.
That’s it… a little humor on this Christmas Eve morning… in case you are in need of a laugh or two. Take care all. And Merry Christmas.