One coughs and the healthy one cowers. Let's hope he stays healthy, he's on a plane in the morning.
Synchronized coughing on the sofa designated for the plague.
This needs a skull and crossbones.
Sign on a bedroom door. It should really hang on the front door.
And this. Whatever this is. We're going through rolls and rolls of the stuff.
Ah, well. March in the Northeast is made for colds and misery. Who are we to escape unscathed?