"Boodzdah rova." The big guy replied, turning to glance at Terry to make sure there was only one sneeze on the way, and not a train of three or four that some people were prone to. He also expected that, as many times he'd said it for as many people in the house who had colds, others would recognize a Russian response to a sneeze without thinking too much on it by now.
"Spirit of the holiday." Pete was happy to offer as an excuse for Kitty's mood. He himself wasn't a super Christmas fanatic, but he liked watching other people get excited for it, and snow was pretty great. Besides, it was hard to not really get at least a little in the mood when you had an army of little kids freaking out over it. "You can pretty much use that to justify anything this time of the year."
When Kitty chirped at him, he laughed. "Let's just hope it's the weather or a cold, and not from some sort of shiny new tree allergy she's developing. Wouldn't want her sneezing all over everyone's presents on Christmas morning." He turned back to Terry, eying her purposefully, though there was amusement in his eyes. "You hear that? You're not allowed to be sick on Christmas."