Being sick and all that entails
The Kauffman Household, version 2.2.1, has all the appeal of an isolation ward. It’s enough to put a smile on all those kids that made fun of me in grammar school. Yes, there’s been a real run on items such as Kleenex and cough drops. It all started with Beth, yes, Beth. Beth spends six or so hours, five days a week at the germ bank, known in some circles as “the public education system.” This month, the most important thing Beth has learned in school is the difference between a good antihistamine and a decongestant. Although Adam gets out about as much as Howard Hughes, he got sick next. Naturally, since they were the first to get sick they had it the easiest, there were a couple of healthy people to take care of them. Now it has spread to the rest of us, and they’re just peachy. Pity my poor wife, the last of our kind to fall ill.
I was discussing her prospects for tomorrow (five days ago, when I had little inclination to write), and she was rather coy about her work prospects. She said she was sick and didn’t want to work, but she wouldn’t commit. Who would have thought my wife would have a fear of commitment? Perhaps her prior experiences didn’t work out so well? Making matters worse for the ole “D.C.”: our primary baby sitter was in isolation as well. So I asked, “Cheryl, why don’t we just call your mother now and see if she is too sick to watch Adam?” She replies, “Nah, if she calls me tomorrow morning I’ll just stay home.” “Yeah, but you’ll have gotten up early for nothing.” “Like Adam is going to sleep in?” “Well, maybe not; but, you’ll have gotten out of bed, showered and dressed for nothing.”
For that split second, it was as if I hadn’t lived with this woman for the last ten years. I’m happy as a clam in a two-day-old pair of PJs, and with skin preserved in it’s own natural oils, like an ocean living mammal. Cheryl? Not so much.