Kickass, the doorstop dog, sometimes fails in his efforts to embrace the keeper’s take on circumstances that befall him. For example, he—the keeper is now attempting to devise a competition for those who are laid low by the respiratory crude that is now circulating. Duration is the big qualifier, and that person who demonstrates the longest period of hacking, coughing, gasping, and general abject misery will be awarded first prize, which will be a pair of rose-colored glasses with special magnification for reading medical fine-print.
The keeper, already seeing through rose colored glasses, will refrain from competition, though he would be a hands-down winner. All entrants should submit the details of their respiratory infirmity—length and intensity and the phrases they might have used in describing their condition to friends and family.
(A note for prospective competitors: Becoming immersed in the “Mine is worse,” respiratory contest will completely empty your mind of anything having to do with the absurdity going on in the White House, which is a definite plus but begs the question that while you may eventually recover there is scant hope for the White House.)