Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Tooth (Fairy) for Tea

I'm sick.  But if you're a regular reader of A City Mom, then you already knew that.  Today, however, I don't mean sick in the sense that I have a bad sense of humor, but sick in the sense that the inside of my skull feels like a cement mixer. I have a really bad cold.

But I believe this cold is evidence of one of our motherly super-powers: the ability to postpone getting sick or even avoid it completely.  Because what mom out there has time to be sick? So, we choose, sometimes more forcefully than others, to simply not be sick.

Two weeks before Christmas, my daughter complained of a sore throat, and I kindly and with concern, replied, "No! You do not have a sore throat!"  Have I mentioned in the last fifteen minutes all three of my children have birthdays in December?

Positive parental reinforcement aside, my daughter did get sick first. Her cough became so bad we went to the doctor, who suspected Pertussis, which is also known by the much more fun and exciting, onomatopoetic name of "whooping cough" (and no, I didn't lose a bet that required me to work the word "onomatopoetic" into a sentence) because it's going around, and treated her with a round of antibiotics. Turns out, it wasn't Pertussis after all, but that didn't stop my son Kyle from getting whatever it was. Or my husband. Or my other son, Ethan.

I remember thinking, NO! I absolutely cannot get sick! I've got Christmas presents to buy and wrap, and birthday presents for three children to buy and wrap and one birthday slumber party to plan and host and...and...and...I didn't get sick. Because I just couldn't get sick. It would be like the Grinch coming and stealing Christmas and their birthdays. And I believe I used my motherly super-power of  choosing to create my own reality to do this, at least temporarily.

Unfortunately, I woke up on New Year's day with a sore throat. I remember having a few self-indulgent thoughts about how it wouldn't be so bad to be sick, because I could snuggle-up in bed with a good book and a box of tissue and maybe someone would bring me a cup of hot tea. You know, someone like the Tooth Fairy, because she would be my best shot at getting a cup of hot tea delivered to my bed.

You see, this week, I have time to be sick. No one's Christmas or birthday will be ruined because I can't lift my head off a pillow. And if I were sick, going to work tomorrow would be out of the question, because the FAA frowns on pilots with skulls that feel like cement mixers  flying any heavy-jets. Those self-indulgent thoughts are what did me in, I know it. But don't feel too sorry for me and my congested head. As soon as I post this, I just may take to my bed with a good book, and wait for the Tooth Fairy to bring me some tea.

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