Oh ye chickenpox, a right of passage for any child, how I am grateful you are hereby vanquished from our home forever. You weren't too severe, and though you may have left a scar or two, I am happy you arrived when you did as you may have otherwise thwarted our plans to visit loved ones in America.
I am also grateful that you did not break Hopper's spirit. He remained happy and playful, if not a bit flushed and sleepy, but I certainly wish that you would have left his groin alone. And the inside of his ear, really? Why do you pick such awful places to live?
You have a reputation, like a fallen celebrity, causing ripples of pointing and woeful glances. (Because really, how do I keep a toddler indoors for a whole week?) But I dare say it's for all the wrong reasons, for you arrive and infringe yourself on many peoples lives by sheer force and vulgarity. I can see you have been busy in my city, making many appearances, and although you are welcome by a strange degree, we are always happy to see you leave. For good.
I bid you farewell, oh blistery one. It was real.
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