I can’t believe I’m sick for the second time in a month. What kind of a wimp gets sick twice in one month? Okay fine, Michael. I admit it. I’m a wimp. And speaking of wimps, what is it about being sick that just makes you want to hug your mom? First it was just a bad cold a few weeks ago. Now it’s the flu. The fever-chills-bodyaches flu. But not the stomach flu. Thank God it’s not the stomach flu.
I don’t even want to go into how I got sick again. Let’s just talk about how I’m going to change my ways in the future. 1) I really should try this newfangled thing they call sleep. 2) A cupcake is not a meal. There’s just not a whole lot in the way of vitamin content there. 3) It is not wise to ride my bike to school when it’s 28 degrees outside.
I took a bubble bath earlier, which I hoped would make me feel better. But instead it just kind of wore me out. So I’m back in bed again. And let me caution you: when you are sick, DO NOT borrow your little sister’s Fairy Berry Strawberry shampoo. It smells EXACTLY like the pink stuff they used to give you for strep when you were a kid. Makes me shudder just thinking about it.
In a little while I may attempt to gather my strength and relocate myself to the couch so that I can watch Anne of Green Gables. Or maybe Gone with the Wind. Those are my favorites when I’m sick. It’s probably because that’s the only time when I’m able to sit down to a movie that’s four hours long. Okay, so let’s be honest. I watch all the Indiana Jones movies, all the old Star Wars movies, and Lord of the Rings too.
So here I am, spending my lovely Saturday in bed. Mom just walked out the door with the final words, “Gracie, you’re in charge,” which bestowed the authority of head of household upon our cat. Now, I know that cats are supposed to be able to tell when you’re sick and curl up with you and make you well, but I’m pretty sure that Gracie’s only goal is to get at my ginger ale on the bedside table.
Before she left, my mom brought me the ginger ale in the bunny cup. That’s how I know that I really am sick. The bunny cup has been a tradition in our family since my older brother was a baby. A dear friend of ours brought him a beautiful Beatrix Potter teacup and saucer from England, and ever since, it’s been probably the most cherished thing in our kitchen cabinets. Whenever anyone is really sick, or has had a really crummy day (like, lost your job crummy), mom will bring them tea in the bunny cup. None of us would EVER have the audacity to drink from the sacred bunny cup when we are well and happy. But alas, here I am, sipping my ginger ale from the bunny cup.