A Holiday Whodunit?

The other night I had a dream that my face was melting off.  As it turns out, I just had a runny nose that somehow incorporated itself into my REM cycle.  I woke up to stream of liquid snot magma and a throat drier than the Atacama Desert.  And in this moment I came to an eye-opening conclusion:  I am so wearing sweatpants and Uggs to work today. 

Yes, ladies and uh.. germs.  It's the most wonderful time of the year.  Your wallet seems to have a leak, as does your face faucet.  But fear not Viral Foe of mine, I will track down the evildoer who thrust this malady upon me.

Possible Suspects:

My Brother

He's had it out for me for as long as I can remember.  Ripping the heads off of my Barbies, and using them as paintball targets.  Please, I dare you to call it a common sibling rivalry; you'll be next on his To-Torture List.

His Demon Spawn 

Sure, she looks sweet and unassuming, but she also has a knack for touching everything at least twice.  And just think about who her father is.  Exactly.  A torture specialist.  He probably told her to go slobber on her Auntie in exchange for some sort of sugar coma.

Airplanes

Cesspits.  Take 416 people, fill them with airborne viruses and sardine them in a long metal shaft for a few hours.  These viruses are bound to mingle, to search for a warm and unsuspecting body to have a vicious house party in for few days.

I'm not going to place blame.  But I will tell you that I simply adore my niece and brother.  This wretched cold is so absolutely worth the short time I was able to spend with my family over Thanksgiving.  I will take the germs, so long as they were packaged with the wrapping paper of love and a ribbon of hugs.

Love is the culprit.  Case Closed.