To make matters worse, the flight attendants had just served our beverages. And I was really, really thirsty.
So I had to make a decision: skip the water, or drink it and maybe die, like Myrna Loy in The Rains Came. This was not an easy decision to make. The Rains Came is kind of a silly melodrama about a woman redeeming her misspent youth by helping out in a hospital during a cholera epidemic in India. Eventually she forgets about the general germiness of life in India during a cholera epidemic, lifts a glass of water to her lips, and drinks. I'm all "MYRNA! Don't drink that!" but she does anyway. And you just know she's going to die.
Admittedly, I don't think raising my children to say "please" and "thank you" exactly qualifies as a nursing-the-cholera-patients level of self-sacrifice. But the glass of water with the sneeze juice in it seemed just as deadly as Myrna's.
At this point it's probably a good idea for me to mention that I spent my Christmas vacation watching marathon amounts of television episodes on DVD. And that in the space of three days, I watched the entire first season of House, M.D. And that is why I knew for sure that that sneeze COULD HAVE BEEN DEADLY.
And yet I drank the water anyway. I know, ew. But I really was thirsty. And I'm still alive!
Of course, when I walked into my house with its Christmas decorations all over the place, suitcases needing to be unpacked, laundry to do, plants needing watering, the turtle needing fresh water ... by the way, have you noticed that "thirsty" is today's secret word?
I leave you with two thoughts: this house is going to kill me. And I think I'm going to go get a drink.