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Broke Wife, Big City
A plague on our house in this winter of our discontent
By Aprill Brandon
I never really understood those people who claimed that time is
relative. That it can speed up and slow down depending on where you
are, or how fast you’re going, or other vague confusing science stuff.
That time it is not an absolute.
Then January happened. And kept happening. And happening. Wouldn’t stop
happening. It was a January that lasted for seven years. It was a
January aging in dog years.
But hey! We all survived! And before murdering anyone (I’m assuming)!
It’s now the beginning of February. Winter is officially half over.
Which I feel I would be much more excited about if my one child hadn’t
been coughing since November and the other one didn’t currently have a
low-grade fever and runny nose that is going to last until April.
I look forward to seeing you all again in May. Possibly June. Most
likely 2034 when these two curly-haired petri dishes move out of my
house.
Honestly, it wouldn’t be that bad if these perpetually sick children
had the decency to come down with an illness that makes them want to
lay on the couch all day watching TV. You know, like any decent sick
person with morals would do. Nope. My kids only get the germs that
prevents them from going to school or library story-time or eating
normal food or doing any chores. But leaves them with enough energy to
destroy my home and my sanity and my immune system.
I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t fighting to get all my oxygen
needs through nostrils that were only eight percent operational. I’ve
been dealing with an endless line of noses running so hard they would
likely qualify for the Boston Marathon. I’ve been riding a mucus
tsunami like Moana crossing the sea to return the heart of Te Fiti,
which is a very apt comparison considering I have seen Moana 116 times
in the past five weeks.
“Mom, how come you’re not sick?” my son asked one day while casually handing me a distressingly soggy tissue.
“Because I have mom immunity. And I drink whiskey for medicinal
purposes. And also technically I’ve been sick since the day after
Christmas but everything still needs to get done because life is cruel
and unfair.”
“Oh. Is dad sick too?”
“Yup.”
“Where is he?”
“Army crawling to work. Y’all expensive and we need to keep our insurance.”
Everyone in this stupid house keeps breathing all the same stupid air
making each other sick but we can’t leave because we’ll make other
stupid people sick so we stay stupid inside trying not to stupid kill
each other while our stupid germs have air orgies and make new germs
that we stupid breathe in that make us sick all over again.
And even when we get better, we’re not really better. And if we are
better we aren’t better for long. Every time my son comes home from his
school filled with other petri dishes disguised as children, I can
almost see the germs gleefully jumping from his hand to his backpack
and giddily lying in wait for the moment when he asks me to carry it
home for him and I give in because I’ve had 42 fights with his toddler
sister just that morning and my spirit is broken. And then those germs
jump onto my hand, supersonically shouting out their war cries and
whoops and hacking away at my white blood cells with their super tiny
axes.
Or, you know, however germs work.
There’s been so much sickness lately, in fact, that it’s gotten to a point that I’m a bit insensitive about the whole thing.
“What? You’re sick again?”
*child finishes puking* “Yeah.”
*sticks thermometer in ear* “I mean, you only have temp of 102. Here’s
some Tylenol and a shovel. The driveway needs cleared out.”
*child has devastating coughing fit* “Ok, Momma.”
“And then after we can watch ‘Moana’ again!”
*child gives thumbs-up from fetal position on the floor*
So, like I said. I look forward to seeing you all again in May. When
everyone is finally healthy again but all our allergies have kicked
back in and we spend all our time sneezing in each other’s faces.
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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