Friday, October 10, 2008

Sick Call

Sick
by Shel Silverstein

"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

Oh, would that those last three lines were true for us here in the Ward home this past week. But, no, afflicted all were we! Beginning with myself last Sunday, with a horrible, horrible really bad, lousy rotten unmerciful stomach virus. And with Wally arriving that very day by plane. I asked the Lord to spare me for a few brief hours so I could run up to Louisville and pick him up. Done! But then for the next two days I lay comatose (OK, so maybe I exaggerate, but only a little) while my Wally and the Beave had to fend for themselves.

Wednesday I awake to the sounds of what? Birds sweetly calling to me of the freshness of a new healthly nausea free day? Not so much! No, what awakened me was the moaning of the Beave calling to me in the darkness . . . that there was a huge mess to clean up in his room, off the sheets, floor, wall . . . gee, he didn't miss a spot. That was followed shortly thereafter by Wally's own less subdued, "Uh, Mom, have you got a bucket?"

What a way to spend our Fall Break! Here it is Friday and the boys are still abed and I'm mopping fevered brows and ladling out Pepto. This should be it, it was three days and over for me.

This was not the quality time I had wanted for the three of us. But it was kind of nice to be needed again. I got to kick into full Mom-alert mode. There was scrubbing, washing, sanitizing, pulling up disheveled bedding, fluffing pillows, drawing blinds and in general making sure the guys were OK, by asking "are you OK?," or "you need anything?"

Sigh. It's all part of being a Mom. (The best job in the whole world!)

1 comment:

MacKenzie said...

Yeah, you think by the time your kid is 25, you're done cleaning up their puke but apparently not.

Although to be fair to him, he did use his vacation to go home and see his family and all you gave him was germs. Hmm...maybe I should rethink my Christmas plans?