Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Crud is in the Hiz-Ouse.

An e-bola like crud has descended upon our household. 

Stomach viruses are awesome....said no one ever. 



I have managed to avoid a major collision with the bug, but have been sideswiped a little between bouts of caring for the infirmed. But I AM NOT SICK.

Special Agent and I don't "do" sick. It isn't allowed around here. We reject illness. When it inevitably strikes one of us, this is how the conversation goes

Spouse A: ((sniff)) ((Cough-cough, gag))

Spouse B: You ok?

Spouse A: I'm fine. ((clearing throat))

Spouse B: No you aren't....Oooh, you're getting SICK!!!

Spouse A: No I'm not. ((squinting evil eye at Spouse B)) I'm FINE. 

Spouse B: Yea-heah..Youuuuu're sick. ((Smiling))

Spouse A: I'M NOT SICK!!!

Spouse B: Sick. Siiiiiick. Sick-sick-sick-sick.

Spouse A: Shut up. 

Spouse B: ((singing)) sickety-sick-pants....


Spouse A: SHUT UP! SHUT YOUR MOUTH ((random violence))

Spouse B: ((Walking away backward while mouthing)) SICK.

Special Agent calling me an hour later to
say..."you're sick". ...Jerk.
It isn't much better with our kids. When they say they feel sick, we literally try to talk them out of it. We have had a modicum of success with the strategy and will hold out on it until someone has a fever or throws up TWICE. (Once could just have been a fluke, a bad clam, whatev.) 

Fevers and continued vomiting are a no argument illnesses. Your body is literally PROVING its ill. Fine. Fiiiine. You're sick. 

But how long does this have to go on, geez???? 

Both kids have been through two days EACH of smashing their germy bodies into our couch, intermittently throwing up and groaning. I throw crackers through the door into the couch area and roll a bottle of Gatorade their way. 


 I try to be nice and kind, but I don't have a ton of stamina after about...4 hours of this sick business. You've thrown up everything you could possibly have had in your body (and then some). Get well...Now. 

Consequently, our kids are pretty tough. The insurance lady just noted with amazement that we haven't had a claim yet this year for either kid. And I haven't even been employing my fish antibiotic treatment

Our daughter has yelled at me several times today that she is FINE, in between school, trying out for basketball, doing her math homework and throwing up. I keep winging crackers at her,but she won't eat 'em. 

So don't come over. Stay far away from us for at least 10 days. We have a little something going on around here. 

But, WE ARE NOT SICK. 



Thursday, October 4, 2012

Melancholy

The lonesome oak tree held its fire
til November...
We watched the last brown leaf 
hit the ground and blow away....

An evening gunshot let him know 
the hunt was over...
A familiar cold moved in
somewhere between snow and rain...
 - Robert Earl Keen


I did some errands and couldn't help but notice all of the hunters in town, gathering their supplies together and smiling and at the cool, damp weather which lends to their success. I smiled at them, groups of men looking like boys. 

I felt sorry for myself, sorry for my loss, which is not new but always with me. I ate some fresh bread, ripped in chunks from the loaf in my cart while i slowly pushed around the aisles of light bulbs and steel wool. 

I frowned at the hunters behind their backs. Somewhere, someone had no idea that next year, their hunter won't not be among these boy-men. And then he won't be there for the next six years, either. He isn't coming back. 

I felt sad for my mother. I felt sad for a friend who lost her hunter just last month. I felt bad for fatherless and grandfatherless children. But mostly, I felt bad for myself. 

I miss him.