For the last few weeks, I’ve managed to dodge your love. I even went out of town to Blissdom and left you with various family and your dad in the hopes that you would have spread love to him instead.
I’ve popped Vitamin C, extra doses of multi-vitamins, washed hands, refused to share any more than a hug (no kisses please) anti bacterial gel, and everything else I could think of to keep your love away from me.
But alas, I am no match for you. I am outnumbered and out of weapons of defense.
Sometime yesterday, my body broke down and gave in to the love you have for me. I felt it in my neck and shoulders. Like a hug that wanted to choke the life out of me (and I wouldn’t doubt it coming from my own spawn), I felt my chest constrict and as I gasped for air and coughed, a cough so violent and filled with STUFF (for lack of a better word), I knew, right then and there that you had finally won.
I am officially waving my white Kleenex as I truly do surrender.
weapons of defense
Yesterday, I sat, sipping tea and munching cough drops like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, grabbing tissue after tissue like a nervous chain smoker and feeling everything from my cheekbones up, THROB AND REVERBERATE LIKE A CHINESE GONG.
I’m positive at this point that the love you’ve shared has morphed into a sinus infection. I can’t breathe, I can’t hear and if I bend over, I’m absolutely, without a doubt, certain that my head will explode (Yes that might seem cool, but I guarantee that I’m going to make you clean up the mess from it).
So please be gentle with me, try not to jump on me too much (again, we want to avoid a head explosion), don’t stand five inches from me while I’m lying down, trying to sleep,and ask if I’m feeling better and then cough at me. That will help nothing.
Instead take this letter and give it to your dad as my last will and testament so he knows exactly what killed me. Don’t forget to stand five inches from daddy’s face and ask him how he’s feeling and then cough at him as well. Daddy loves to be loved and we don’t want him to miss out on anything.
I love you all,
Your ailing, sneezing, coughing, congested mother.
P.S. If I scream out loud for no apparent reason, it’s just my ears popping from my futile attempts to keep my head from exploding. It hurts a little, but only for a moment.
I am slightly jealous of your ability to write something so humorous while feeling so cruddy! I would be sulking in bed.
Love the post!!
.-= Erica Mueller´s last blog ..Design and Decor – Not the Same Thing =-.
In honor of full disclosure, I think you should know that I actually started this post 3 days ago. I was 2 sentences in before I decided it would just be easier to give in and die.
One word: Sudafed. Actually, make that three words: the good Sudafed. Don’t get the wussy PE stuff. You need the stuff baseball players sneak on the side. You’ll still feel kind of crappy, but man, will you have more energy with which to feel crappy.
Feel better.
.-= Kate@And Then I Was a Mom´s last blog ..Warning: Living can cause death. =-.