It’s My Cold and I’ll Cry if I Want to.

There comes a time, in most people’s lives, when the wheat must be separated from chaff. It is a time that tries men’s souls, and women’s patience. That’s right, I am talking about that cursed time when people catch a cold.

Of course we all suffer differently. Some, like my husband, do so silently. He shuts inward, becoming quiet, drinking tea, water and soup, his misery bore only with a rare…