The exhausted dad: Sick on the second day

So much excitement surrounds the first day of school. New teachers. New friends. The rich, enticing aroma of a Cheese Yummy oozing out from the lunchroom.

That’s how it always starts. Then later there’s sniffling and… and… coughing.

Yes, with a new school year comes a steady flow of illness. You can’t escape it. Kids get bombarded with disgusting viruses all the time, and not even the biggest germaphobe parents (like me) can escape it.

My oldest son attended his first day of third grade and everything went great. His school started on a Thursday, but when we picked him up the next day (Friday) after school, he made the most predictable kid comment of all time: “I have a sore throat.”

After a temperature check and what is sure to be the first of about 900 COVID tests this year, we concluded the most likely culprit: The common cold. The “haven’t we figured out how to stop these viral jerks?” common cold.

Look, nobody likes wearing masks, but I miss them. Masks and social distancing are my jams because A. I don’t generally enjoy conversing with strangers in tight spaces (or anywhere really), and B. I hate getting sick. And I hate taking care of children who get sick. They don’t sleep well, which means I don’t sleep well, and then I get the cold and still don’t sleep well.

As far as colds go, my son’s illness was relatively minor, and he’s now old enough to largely keep his snot to himself. Unfortunately, for families with multiple kids, it’s impossible for just one kid to catch a cold. You’re looking at, bare minimum, 66 percent of the house developing symptoms.

With my older son feeling better over the weekend, three of the four kids went to school on Monday (my kindergartner didn’t start until Tuesday). After school, my youngest daughter arrives home and declares, “I have a sore throat.”

Round 2. She’s 7-years-old, and the snot control isn’t up to the standard of her older brother.

At this point, I’m already regretting not ordering more of those free government COVID tests.

Anyway, she recovers relatively quickly as well.

Tuesday arrives and I have my nervous little kindergartner preparing for the first day of school (that comes with its own drama – more on that in a future column). He makes it through to the end and comes home with a huge smile on his face.

Then he starts sneezing. All over the place. On the TV remote. On my spot on the couch and, at one point, right into my face.

Round 3.

This little 5-year-old, who’s been largely shielded from colds and childhood illness because of his dad’s, um, aggressive, COVID protocols, hasn’t had many experiences with body aches and runny noses. So he’s moaning for most of the afternoon and into the evening, then, after a miserable bedtime routine, wakes up seven different times in the night and begs to rest his snot-covered face in MY bed on MY pillow.

You might ask, “How was his second day of kindergarten?” He didn’t go. Write that down as the first of what I’m guessing will be 18-or-more absences for him this school year. At least I had somewhere to be most of Wednesday, and therefore didn’t have to listen to his snot-infused moaning (Condolences to my wife, who had to work from home and, you know, not actually get any work done because the kid’s nose kept exploding all over the furniture).

Now, as I type this on the weekend and look ahead to an extremely busy upcoming week, I’m loading up on vitamin C and swallowing my own spit over and over again, trying to detect even a hint of soreness in the back of my throat. Fifty percent of the house has had this cold, which means, guaranteed, at least one more will fall. It’s always at least 66 percent of the family. Always.

• • •

Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer and parent to four kids, ages 5-11. He is tired. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.