Snot, Sects, and Marketing

There are sneezes to clear dust and then there are sneezes that start out at your feet and shake your spine and tingle afterwards and make the roof of your mouth start to sweat. These are the ones that let you know you're getting sick.
That one hit me somewhere on I-70 late Sunday. I had been fighting a cold for ten or so days, bobbing and weaving with vitamins and orange juice, so I could be well enough for Thanksgiving so I could enjoy my son and avoid my mother-in-law saying "you're always sick!"
So I'm glad the germs took their time winning the war. As it is, my nephew (who is always sick) had the sniffles, and, after sneezing at the dinner table, looked like he had two green snakes attacking his brain.
Which is why, I claim, my son now has a cold.

Did I mention the walls in my apartment complex are thin? I usually have to study at the AFIT computer lab at night, since my neighbor plays music or loud television shows all hours. (Some war movie is drowning out my Simpsons episode as I type.)
At least he was nice enough to turn it all down last night while he was having friendly relations with someone in his living room.

I'm going to go make dinner: the last time my wife was in Seattle she got me another bag of my favorite pasta all formed in the shape of the Space Needle, called "Space Noodles." While falling asleep last night, I tried to think of some other food I could market like that. First thing that came to mind was to take some tic-tacs, whittle down one end to a sharp point, and call them Washington Monu-mints.