Thirsty Thursday: Mr mr's sickness, the skip, and a dead mouse
Sarah McCarthy’s Thirsty Thursday column is brought to you each week thanks to Invercargill-based law firm Mee & Henry Law.
Sarah McCarthy’s Thirsty Thursday column is brought to you each week thanks to Invercargill-based law firm Mee & Henry Law
THIRSTY THURSDAY 27
Oh god Mr mr is sick. I mean sick as in sick, not sick, obviously, and not like sick (but maybe?) but sick sick.
I should have known because the big one had a sore throat at the weekend. I thought it was the dust at first - I dusted his room and it was a grimy grey horror show and both children made a grand show of coughing and spluttering (and I was reminded of a thousand years ago when Mr mr’s mum told me he couldn’t use the lux because of his asthma and I thought to myself well, I’ve always wanted to see a man die) and then he didn’t want to go to a birthday party because of this “sore throat” and we thought he just was wanting to stay at home playing games but then he came home after swimming and running around in the rain quite unwell.
This kind of thing usually precludes my 49-year-old child becoming unwell, as he’s never seen a symptom he didn’t immediately begin to display (see above, see also bombastic side eye) and last night as I lay awake at 2am after a nice evening of revenge procrastination and trying to write my column in my head (which I cannot find anywhere) his snoring was next level, I assume because of this terrible, terrible disease.
He woke up this morning with a sore throat and was like “Mummy I can’t do the luxing because I am poorly” and so I’ve spent the day most industriously because he’s been home, and I can hardly sit watching Schitts Creek while slooowwwwwwlyyyyy folding the washing when he’s in the next room.
I’ve made him toast twice (“Can I have honey? As it is much better for sore throats than oh, I don’t know, ACTUAL MEDICINE”) and when I had lunch he said, “are you having that chicken from last night?” and I said yes and he said, “that’s fine” and I was like nobody asked you mucous boy go back to bed I hate you.
I do feel very smug and nice because we had a skip at the weekend (KIWI SKIPS LIKE FISH AND CHIPS I LOVE YOU) and they put it directly under the deck so we could go out with bags of rubbish and yell WARE BELOW and biff it over the side, and I moved things around in the living room and I even cleaned some parts of the lower wall. As in … okay nobody freak out.
I dusted some of the skirting boards. And even wiped some bits under cupboards, rearranged my empty jar collection and found a dead mouse in a rather prominent position, leading me to believe I may need to go to the optometrist.
Now I have to be very, very quiet and sneak around because at any moment one of the children is going to say “I was thinking about what I want to go as for Halloween and it is completely different than we had planned and expensive and completely unrealistic” but to be honest I needn’t worry because that won’t happen until everyone is in a mad rush getting ready for school. Boo.
Why haven't you got a syndicated column in a number of newspapers? Obviously, they would not include the ODT because the ODT doesn't do your particular brand of articulate, irreverent, pointed, subtle and unsubtle, witty, at times caustic, observations ...