If you read my Facebook or Twitter posts at all, you might know that I and my entire family was sick last week. So sick we almost died. Or could have, if wishing for it could have made it so. The flu sucked the life right out of us, y’all. It was awful. So awful, it’s the only thing I talked about. The only thing I thought about. The only thing I whined about. The only thing I obsessed about.
Except Lysol. Do you have any idea how many surfaces require Lysol application in one single-story house? The toilets. The countertops. The doorknobs. The bathroom sinks. The mattresses. The kid’s faces. The dog. The cat. My hair.
If it could be sprayed, I sprayed it. If it didn’t breathe, I sprayed it. If it did breathe, I threw a towel over body parts with air holes…and sprayed it.
I’m so sick of being sick. But finally, finally, I think we’re on the mend. In fact, I went out to dinner yesterday, and for the sake of all the patrons at the restaurant I will not name for fear of being sued, threatened, or hunted down…I sure hope so.
Anyway, as I learned real fast last week, there’s not much to do when you’re sick and stuck at home for six days straight. Not much at all. For example, here’s what I did to entertain myself all week.
1. Sprayed Lysol.
2. Sat on sofa.
3. Pulled Kleenex from box.
4. Blew nose.
5. Tossed Kleenex on floor.
6. Took nap. Flipped over. Napped again.
7. Watched The Jeff Probst talk show, where I learned that Jeff Probst might be an engaging Survivor host, but he is barely surviving as a talk show host.
8. Twirled hair.
9. Thought about washing hair, but piled it on head and took another nap.
10. Watched Kelly Ripa, who confessed quite candidly to tri-yearly Botox injections.
11. Inspected face, looking for potential Botox injections sites.
12. Disgusted with red, blotchy, feverish complexion, tossed mirror behind sofa.
13. Took nap.
14. Took off dirty pajamas.
15. Put on clean pajamas.
16. Bathed once. Maybe twice.
17. Bought drugs.
18. Bought more drugs.
19. Learned that—while “Just Say No” is an effective slogan to deter drug use, it’s crap for applying to the flu. Bring on the drugs. Liquid. Pills. (Legal) powder. I took ‘em all.
20. Picked up sick kids from school.
21. Drank coffee.
22. Drank tea.
23. Drank anything hot for sore throat purposes.
24. Moaned, complained, repeat. Somehow this made me feel slightly better. Though it did nothing to stir compassion from my kids.
25. Thought about doing laundry, but as long as semi-clean pajamas were available, didn’t see the point.
26. Fed dog.
27. When too tired, tossed Milk Bones to dog from sofa.
28. Watched Lost, wishing I could disappear to remote island filled with crazy, murderous people. Anything had to be better than the flu. Plus, maybe they would kill me and put me out of my misery.
29. Read book, which hurt head, so closed book.
30. Stared at ceiling, which was surprisingly soothing for headache.
31. Took nap. Rolled over. Napped again.
All in all, it was a super-fun week. The kids were out of school every single day, so the make-up work will likely last until Spring. But at least we were together in our misery, together in our proximity, together in our frustration. And you know what they say: The family who spends time together, stays together.
But you know what they don’t say?
This kind of togetherness stinks.
If it happens again anytime in the next decade, I’ll just die.