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By Mary Garrison
It is a widely-known fact that when I get sick, not only do I turn into a regular ray of sunshine (there is a dire need for a sarcasm font, by the way), but I also regress about 20 years. No one can do anything right, except for Gabe â€” who makes it a point to love on me and tend to most of my needs when Iâ€™m feeling ill (one day, some very lucky woman will thank me for this) â€” and I tend to hate all things.
Oh, and I want my mommy. Itâ€™s funny, really, how no matter how old we get, the minute we get the sniffles all we can think about is curling up in bed with some of momâ€™s homemade soup. Somehow, they always make it better. Iâ€™ve learned to appreciate this even more now as a mother, myself.
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