“Why am I being punished…” it was with these words that your sick morning began. You got sick because you went outside in winter with a wet head. Your older brother Scaramouche stood next to your bed, soaking a rag in water. Your high fever still didn’t want to go away, and your cough and runny nose made themselves known, and for the second night in a row you sleep fitfully and restlessly.

“I told you a hundred times, dry your hair completely, and don’t leave it wet..” mumbled Scaramouche