Poorly Pops

Continuing his penchant for catching Victorian illnesses, my poor dad has now come down with pneumonia. The last one was a quinsy—no, not an American medical examiner with a chesty cough (do you see what I did there?), but a rather nasty abcess in his throat. Thankfully he seems to be on the mend, but I would like to send a big “Get Well Soon” shout out to Daddy W. Cheaper than a card.

And remind him to steer clear of TB and syphilis.