Fiorella is sick. She has a cold, the first one she's had in years. She's whiny and querelsome, her throat is scratchy, her brain is clogged, her head hurts, she's sneezing up a storm, and her nose is running like a faucet. Hello, huddling on the couch and complaining about the temperature being too warm or too cold. Hello, peering around with eyes half-closed. Hello, chicken soup, jello, and hot chocolate.
Hmm...hot chocolate. Maybe it's not all that bad.