Thankfully, the plague has passed. Aside from some persistent coughing, Jo-Elle and I have shed the last of the virus. For me, it sounds like H1N1. Thankfully, for Jo, something less...mean...so she and Cletus were unscathed.
The only good thing in the week that I lost to the flu was a chance to get a little closer to Cletus. I've felt him.
He has bucking bouts in the belly---seems like rollicking good times inside Jo-Elle. And the other night as I sat by her, she grabbed my hand and put it on her stomach.
"What is wrong with your muscles? Are you having some sort of spasm?"
"My muscles aren't moving. Not a twitch."
It felt like a muscle contraction, but upon further visual inspection, she was right. Nothing was moving. It was Cletus kickin' it. Litterally.
cool.
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