Oh the places you will go … when you’re sick
When I was growing up, you know, back in the olden days when we played Atari and didn’t have cable, when you were home sick from school, you were HOME sick from school. You collapsed onto the sickbed that was the living room couch in your pajamas from the night before and you watched shitty daytime TV and soap operas with your mom and she brought you some juice and baby Tylenol that tasted like disgusting fake orange chalk and you shoved it between the couch cushions instead of eating it. You didn’t go outside, you didn’t go to the store, you didn’t play. You were SICK, damn it, so you kept your ass on that couch under a sleeping bag.
But I didn’t grow up in a family with three kids and a dad who worked out of town. So my kids don’t fall under the same illness conditions as I once did. Emmie stayed home sick today and it was probably one of the greatest days of her life.
Despite complaining that her ear hurt after a two-week string of yellow snot dripping from her nose, she had to get fully dressed and ready to take Jack and Maeve to school. I didn’t make her walk to school because I’m somewhat sympathetic and I felt bad making her walk six blocks in 32-degree temperatures on snow-covered sidewalks. Also, any excuse I have to not be cold is awesome. Instead she sat in the car with Maeve when I dropped Jack off. We had to stop at the bank on the way to Maeve’s school, but we went to the drive-through, so that doesn’t really count. Then she again waited in the car when I dropped Maeve off.
After a quick stop home to leave a check for the cleaning lady, we bundled back up and went to see her doctor, where she was diagnosed with a sinus infection and given the mighty Z-pack. After we picked out her sticker, we headed downstairs to my own doctor’s office so I could have my TB test read. Spoiler alert: I do not have tuberculosis. Although that would be awesome for traffic, I assure you. “Did you hear about the Mommy Blogger with TB? Totally sad. But she got a book deal out of it, that bitch.” Apparently looking at a bump on someone’s forearm is very technical because we had to wait THIRTY minutes in the waiting room. With my sick kid coughing all over everything. Sorry, old people in the waiting room, but it IS a doctor’s office. After my non-existent bump was declared healthy, we had to go to the pharmacy to pick up Emmie’s prescription. After the shortest wait ever, we were on our way home so I could show an apartment we have for rent. And yes, sicky had to come with me because there was no one at home to watch her. Sign for May 1, get a 5-year-old roommate for free!
We ran out of the showing so we could pick Maeve up from school, and because the cleaning lady was still at the house, I had to take the girls out for lunch. The little patient requested Mediterranean food, so Olive it was. Her appetite was amazing for a sickly child, as she consumed two pita’s worth of chicken shawarma. Delicious.
After lunch, we returned home for a nap for Maeve and some couch-time for Emmie and Mommy. Emmie watched videos of herself that Josh downloaded to the Xbox and Mommy checked Facebook — narcissistic tendencies clearly have no genetic component. When Maeve woke up, it was time to go get Jack from school. And of course, we pick him up 15 feet away from the spot Emmie’s class lines up, so she had to say hello to her teachers and all her friends and throw down some gossip about what she missed during the 5-year-old day. O.M.G.
Since she was at the playground, she insisted on running and fooling around and I had already promised them a trip to the bakery the day before, so off we went to grab cookies and cupcakes. Starve a fever, junk-food-binge a cold — that’s the old saying, right?
We hadn’t even been home fifteen minutes before I jumped up and shook my fist at the sky because I forgot we were totally out of milk and bread. Everybody bundle up, we have to walk around the corner to Trader Joe’s. After nearly taking some poor woman’s Achilles out with a kid-cart, we checked out and walked home, where Emmie was the star of a hastily choreographed dance show in her bedroom. Clearly, she was wasting away.
I did not, however, make her go to tennis class. Although I’m not sure why, considering all the other places I took her during her period of supposed confinement. And people wonder why their kids are always sick — it’s because parents like me just spread their kids’ germs willy-nilly all over town when they should just keep their damn children at home on the couch watching Days of Our Lives.