THE LOOK OF LOVE? OR SEVERE CASE OF THE FLU?

Stop reading now if the name “John Hughes” means nothing to you.

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I have just revealed my age to the reading public.Okay, if you’re still with me, then you too swooned and got all goose-bumpy whenever Andrew McCarthy laid one of his droopy eyed, puppy dog, I’m so very attractive, yet not really attractive at all, looks on a) Molly Ringwald, b) Ally Sheedy or c) Any actress other than Kim Catrall in that disastrous mannequin flick that doesn’t count.Do you have the Pretty In Pink soundtrack playing in your head?We’re still on the same page then.So anyway, there I am at my child’s pediatrician’s office woozy from two weeks of the plague (i.e. the flu that never ends). Both mother and child were struck down with a mighty force that left us crying for mommy. My child’s cries were answered, mine, unfortunately were not.But I’ve lost my train of thought. My deathly illness has nothing to do with Andrew McCarthy, or Jon Hughes, or 1980’s film soundtracks……so, I’m in the doctor’s office picking up antibiotics for my child, when I look up and see a tall man, eyes droopy and sad, skin pale and pasty, his eyes seem to say, “I’m a puppy dog. I am eternally longing for you. My love is unrequited and even though I am in the popular crowd and you’re not, I’m really sensitive and sweet. And…”Blah, blah, blah…I shake my germ ridden skull, am I hallucinating? No. Andrew McCarthy is loping towards me looking, well, looking like he too has been struck with the flu. Droopy, red rimmed eyes? Check. Pale, almost greenish tinted skin? Check. Lost, almost delirious expression? Check.So there it is. Andrew McCarthy is sick. He has some form of lifelong plague-like flu that constantly makes him look like he’s half-asleep and love-sick.There we were. Both helplessly trying to reign in our wild with fever children. Both looking as though we needed to be put to bed with a vial of “germ be gone” and a quart of NyQuil to wash it down. It was as if we were destined to be together, whining and snotty, cuddled in fetal positions around a box of tissues.My only query is this…what song should be playing in the background as we lay there, shivering from the chills and staring blankly, yet meaningfully into each other’s eyes?

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