Monster Cookies

She wondered how she had come to be this way, so particular about cleaning, not missing a corner or a crumb. Things used to be different. A crumb on the floor past bedtime didn’t matter and a friend with a cold was still welcome. She could float over the toys on the floor as if they weren’t even there and fingerprints on the mirror were admired with a smile.

It wasn’t that long ago. It didn’t seem to be, anyway.

But then the mice came. And the ants.

Must sweep, must sweep, must sweep.

Germs moved in and knocked down the strongest immune system she’d ever known. Her family was ill for months on end - years it seemed. One after one they fell, consumed by sickness. First a flu, then fevers. There were infections that would not stop - eyes, sinuses, ears and throats. There were coughs, colds, bronchitis. When all that was done, the cycle began again…vomiting…sinus infection…ear and throat infection…around and around and around.

And she became tired. Exhausted. Impatient. Bitter.

She wiggled her way out of commitments, one by one, the promise of rest giving her strength to take that next step. Anxiety followed by relief; anxiety then relief; anxiety to relief, like a roller coaster until they were no more.

Eventually it was done and her world didn’t weigh so heavily on her shoulders anymore. There was more peace. Relief. But the germs lingered. Her family. Sick. Again. Still.

Her children slept. Her husband slept. And there she was, sweeping. Mopping. Sanitizing. More. Still.