Beore I had kids, I was rarely ever sick. I could visit the nastiest bath houses in central Asia, come home, cook a steak on the grill and go to sleep without a care in the world. Now with kids, if one of the kids come home from school on a Tuesday by the time I wake up on Wednesday morning, my eyes are crusted shut, my throat is s0 sore, I can’t swallow, and I have a fever of 103 degrees. What the fu**?
Kids are the nastiest, most filthy creatures that have ever walked this planet. They are worse than gnats, cockroaches, frogs, lizards, masquitos, goats, chickens, lice or worse than anything that could slither its way out of the middle east. A nuclear bomb couldn’t stop these diseased creatures from spawning spores of death all over their intended victims, and the only thing you can try to do is run and hide.
Yeah, but hiding in the hard part.
Try hiding from your kids, it’s damn near impossible. It’s hard enough for me to try to sneak in a pee during the day let alone disappear for more than 30 seconds at a time. I’ve decided I might start wearing hazmat suits whenever I’m forced to go to one of the kid’s schools or whenever I have to encounter one of my kids germ infested friends; my skin is crawling just thinking about it.
Before I was married I worked in a Pharmacy where I encountered sick people ALL day EVERY day, and I never, ever, got sick. But as soon as I started having kids, it was on like Donkey Kong, and since I must have spent thousands of dollars on Doctor visits and medicines to combat whatever diseases they’ve managed to sneak into the house.
Why am I writing this? Because yesterday my son’s school called to tell me that my son was in the nurse’s office because he felt ill. The nurse insisted he didn’t have a fever and told me that he said he had thrown up, but no adult had seen it, she was simply implying that he might be faking, and honestly that thought crossed my mind as well. Luckily I had been out doing some shopping so I made the quick trip over to pick him up and I could instantly see that he was sick, but before we could go home we had to go and pick up my 3-year-old up for pre-k. By the time we arrived at the school he was asleep in the backseat, so I left him asleep, with the windows open mind you, while I ran in to pick up my daughter. When I came back with my daughter I was in the process of backing out of the parking spot when he announced that he was about to throw up, and indeed he did all over the backseat and carpet of the van. The bad news was I didn’t have anything for him to throw up on except an entire box of tissues that he drenched with chunky throw-up, so the cleanup wasn’t all that bad; the smell now that’s something else.
We got home a few minutes later and within an hour or so, my throat started hurting, one of the worst feelings in the world, and I spent the rest of the night passed out on the couch totally drained of every ounce of energy in my body. So obviously some sort of mutated strain of nasty kid sickness entered my body to create havoc upon my body. Today my throat is still killing me and I’m hoping its my sinuses, but if not, with my luck it’s going to turn out to be strep throat, and them I’m screwed.
I love my kids with my entire being, well 90% at least, but if I could mutate them genetically and make them immune to sickness and whining, I’d love them at least 95%.
So excuse me now as I go lie down on the couch and pray for death until this sore throat is gone and my energy has returned.