Our joyful saga begins just 9 days ago, with Miles complaining of an upset stomach. Headache too. "Great," I thought.

This is not to say that I was not concerned for the lad. I was, and fussed over him too—but more than anything I know that Miles possesses a germ factory for a body. He contracts these illnesses in cute, mild forms—but then distributes a highly mutated and ugly form. Charming, no? That's m'boy!

Bacteria-Boy strikes again!

Miles spent Thursday afternoon playing golf, tonight he's bowling, and Saturday he's supposed to play sax all afternoon; he is seriously shirking his nursing duties.