Contagious

They warned me about it before you arrived. "You won't remember what it was like to have a month without being sick." They were right. They were wrong. You let me meet the girl your grandma swears your mom used to be, and let her meet the boy I thought I had outgrown. I never thought I'd see my dad outdoors in grass-stained Salvatore Ferragamos, or my mom, devout acolyte of Marie Kondo, making room for gifts in the shape of dead leaves. I hope this fever never breaks.