Love in a Time of Pneumonia

I was ordered by my co-workers to write this one down:

Kati kisses me goodnight.

"Oh!" she says in alarm. "I shouldn't have done that!"

"Why not?" I ask.

"I'm afraid you'll catch my cold," she says.

"For heaven's sake, I don't worry about that," I say. "I'm your mom. I'd rather have a kiss goodnight, no matter what."

"You don't care if you catch my germs?" she asks.

"Right," I say.

A couple beats. "Even if I have PANDEMONIA?"

Not quite knowing what she means, I repress my instinct to say, "PANDEMONIA? What's THAT?" Instead I say, "Yes, even if you have pandemonia."

She turns over, pulls the covers up around her, and slowly drifts off to sleep, holding my hand.

Later, I realize the exchange was moot. I've already had pandemonia so many times, I think I'm immune to it.