Research scientists have spent billions of hours and many more billions of dollars searching for a cure for the common cold.
Advertising companies have poured tons o' $$$ into smart, snappy ads on television touting medications.
Old wives have been handing down remedies since Hector was a pup. Anyone know who Hector was?
I have spent the last week nursing/fighting a cold. Not a horrid one. My head never felt like it was going to explode. I didn't have to stuff Kleenex up my nose and walk around the house looking like a demented walrus. I never once coughed up a lung. I was lucky. I slept a lot, though, and my butt was tired of the couch.
Yesterday, I discovered the cure! Dumb luck and my craving for chocolate (it's true what they say: feed a cold) led me to the cabinet where the cookies are kept. I ate . . . . . several. Somehow I knew that just three wouldn't do the trick so I had . . . . more. My pride is keeping me from telling you exactly how many I ate but apparently it was enough to do the trick.