I’m Sick of It (A Snow Day Tale)

The alarm blares like a warning for passing ships. My nose is clogged, my throat is scratchy, and my alarm isn’t doing my head any favors.

Mom peeks in and sits on my bed. “Time to get up kiddo,” she says. I cough and her hand immediately smooths back my hair before resting softly on my forehead.

“You’re burning up. I’ll get the thermometer,” Mom says before hurrying out of my room.