Sleepy in the morning, wide awake at night. The human body always find ways to make us miserable. Got a hot date? Here’s some kind of blemish that seems to swallow your whole face! Available for a limited time only! Yeah, until your date is over. Feels like such a betrayal. And then when you’re recovering from a nasty virus that made you get the snivels for like, three whole days, you’re asked to plan a birthday party. Because we can’t just find some birthday party venue around Melbourne and ask them to pick up a cake? Maybe shove some party pies in the oven? No, of course not.
I still have my snivels, so you’d think my parents would have pity and excuse me from the proceedings so that I can lie in bed, resting and recuperating. That way I can give my full attention to when the party actually rolls around- plus nobody wants me sniffing and blowing my nose all over the party decorations, and least of all the food. All these kids are going to talk away with the sniffles, and I can tell you now it’s not going to be my fault. I tried to save them, I’ll tell the parents. I tried my hardest, but it was the wish of the overlords that I get stuck in making decorations and purchasing small sausage rolls to be heated on the day. Now, even the innocent denizens of the supermarket are at risk of infection. This plague will spread until everyone has the sniffles in all of Australia, and we shall be known as the nation of sniffles forever and ever. Our flag will just be a picture of a dripping nose.
And I’m supposed to be looking for kids party venues. Well, the main comfort I glean from that is that they often have other fun stuff for kids to do, like ice skating and…mini golf? Maybe not inside. Anyway, the kids will be off doing stuff and away from my sickness. My devastating, contagious sickness.
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