So Mama Bear is sick yet again.
I just don’t understand.
I eat healthy, I’ve began taking vitamins, I actually dress for the weather now *Meaning I toss on a sweater instead of a long sleeved t-shirt*, and my fruit juices are not mixed with alcohol anymore...and I still manage to contract a cold.
I’m all healthy and well…someone sneezes on me, two days later…”Dawn of the Dead” complexion, chapped up nose, and puffy eyes.
I’m convinced it’s work.
I’m never sick or feeling feverish until I pull into the parking garage.
I think my job harvest typhoid, ebola and malaria. I mean as soon as I get out the car, I get the aches. The sniffles. And the moans of despair.
Ok I’m moaning because I have to go to work but still…moans of despair.
Of course I call to whine to my mother while at work, not like I had anything to do. I’ve been so bored at work I’ve been looking up random stuff on Wikipedia. You name it, I’ve probably looked it up.
Might as well use the company phone for personal phone calls right?
Of course my mother, the old school home remedy queen, wants me to smother myself in a blanket to “sweat the fever out”. Then a good old dose of the “Tussin and slathering my body in Vicks Vapor rub should do the trick.
*sigh*
There was no going to the doctor as a kid for the common cold. My brother and I were my mother’s personal test subjects. It’s a damn shame when you’re sick as all get out and rather crawl out the door than alert your mom to your illness.
We knew what that meant.
A couple of nights on the couch, wrapped up like a Vicks pig in a blanket and a space heater blasting in our face. She had us so tight we couldn’t even move. She’ll come in every couple of hours and turn us over and shit, wipe the sweat off of our forehead, smirking in satisfaction because she was convinced we were getting well because we were sweating thus “sweating the fever out”
Yeah Ma, the space heater blasting on 100 and a thick down blanket had nothing to do with it.
I’m still convinced this was a form of child abuse.
We used to fake getting well just so we wouldn’t have to go into the “Blanket of Doom”.
*insert traumatic flashback*
After work I went to the store and loaded up on tissue, chicken noodle soup and orange juice and I’m going to hope for the best.
If I keep getting randomly sick, I’m going to buy a gas mask.
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8 comments:
ha! Our parents knew what they were doing, lol they was just passing on a little torture treatment like tike they parents did them! lol
hope you get better
Don't sleep...the hot toddy and "blanket of death" will make you feel like a new woman! Let me know if you need the recipe...
Hope you feel better T!
Yeah Ma, the space heater blasting on 100 and a thick down blanket had nothing to do with it.
I’m still convinced this was a form of child abuse.
lmao
them home remedies done had many a kid scared. i feel ur pain Ten
feel better gurl.
lol@your mom..that was too funny..ol' school parents are a trip.
Why my moms had those same ass remedies....talkin bout swallow some vicks **excuse me** she was dead serious...I'm still traumatized....
Hey girl...long time no see..lol
Awww. Feel better!
I can relate. But, I'd like you to know that your recent stint on healthy living and eating (A La lifeless turkey bacon and 100% cranberry juice without the Vodka additive ~LOL) can cause your immune system to lapse while in the midst of getting stronger. Sounds like an oxymoron of sorts. It's like the body IS in the process of ridding itself of unhealthy anitgens, while building up with all the good stuff. Bam! Along comes some germy infected sneezer ( read: skeezer ~LOL) to slow down the process. Look at it this way: the hot toddy Dollface speaks of consist of *drumroll* alcohol in its strong state (as in no juice chaser). I'd definitely advise you to not revisit your childhood trauma of the Vick-in-a-blanket. I say, call JB over for some hot nekkid sweaty sex, except this time stay under the covers. No jumping off the bed or pole-dancing. Your clumsy ass liable to be dizzy from the hot toddy! As if you need any extra help in the falling down department.
{{eHug}} and get well soon.
PS: And pass on the mask; you wouldn't want the office mates to tell upper mgmt that thier supervisor is doing nails out of the office. Something about those little paper mask reminds me of the nail techs down at the ubiquitous "nail shop." *Not mentioning any particular nationality*
A couple of nights on the couch, wrapped up like a Vicks pig in a blanket and a space heater blasting in our face. She had us so tight we couldn’t even move. She’ll come in every couple of hours and turn us over and shit, wipe the sweat off of our forehead, smirking in satisfaction because she was convinced we were getting well because we were sweating thus “sweating the fever out”
*dead*
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