My daughter called last night.
"Hello?" I said. Croaked.
"You're still sick?" she said, alarmed.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42nVxhC1ge4ESz6eIhxeo43VAaCryF9rSXJw9maalJ743uhF-Hzor0CwZabxY8u6CGcVpZVF33ZgAf4WN6h3SoM3TtjZ4zV41mcc3-pbNVLiIV2miZvv1bVfk-e0H4BUgKzph/s400/thesick1.png)
It has lasted and lasted, the sick. I think now I'm definitely better. Except that "better" still requires some ibuprofen. On a regular basis.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3abmF_BnfVcD5frE2MTY_58XuHGh0V8Tjof3roxwaHLsEWd9MSWuQ6a6cgvSRGZVGuVbgery1HbRYWOXt09UDb7AbcjLNByVMvuq72g2QIooYJdYZIjC2KEnwF6UjR9Xrho4/s400/sick2.png)
We had a two-birthday dinner to celebrate tonight. (Happy Birthday to I. and S.! and while I'm at it--happy birthday to all my December and January birthday kids!)
Actually, it was pretty easy, as two-birthday dinners go. One pasta dish, one green salad, a couple of vegetables, store-bought (but excellent) bread. Pineapples, cut up. And cake. Still, that croaky voice put the whole celebratory gig in doubt.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwc52FxC7R-RvA-yCWfrcLDeopFdtiF3NkZPO49JyC_h9gXqg8xHvcL-QNS-SB-IHCrhFVjZzvFANjpNHhLkkEVXWWsJQfBoj8trzVGna3v_ZLW2ACOBXDbyrDglkS2ze93VbE/s400/thesick3.png)
"No, I'm fine," I reassured.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijeq-Q6NppEzKyox4pJEutUb0qqiDPVFpL655SffSbfTTODYClqogYypN5UkZqNZREwibXQvxCDS8w2r3p6O6PJDLhqcXaWtV7DHPJgDnNlt6xzR_kagtMwGgi5mAStYCPH28S/s400/thesick4.png)
I wish it hadn't been such a long day on Friday. I wish I hadn't left my purse at this one store on Saturday, which added another half hour to my appointed rounds. I wish there were about three more grace days before school starts. I wish I were about an hour deep into a very restful sleep right now.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFhgTldEjt4zmdcfQgKpdADdw8Kik_TdCiLb8hU6zRpqEWbkmS3gSfZa6mnD_BgF9SvCT_JhQEUU6bFC_EpvbYFUrZ0SeVYjqSXv4FohtCELLSRSDd4MbSdgxq-re1ifMe1PD/s400/thesick5.png)
But it starts tomorrow.
(Luckily, at least one of my syllabi is finished.)
Well, I know it's probably wrong to applaud anything, anything at all, when your friend is sick. After all, said friend might require more ibuprofen to dull a throbbing head, and the noise might be too much. But this post--illustrated!--was terrific. (Illustrations? Encore!)
ReplyDeleteWell. Every time I think I have read a favorite post, I read another favorite post. Hyperbole and a half better watch out.
ReplyDelete