Bridget-
It's just a cold!
You said that like two weeks ago. I'm calling the doctor.
No! But it came out strangled, squeaked through a sore throat that only hurts when I stop moving and don't you know, I refuse to do that because then I'll be admitting weakness and no one does that around here. I have to keep up with the boys even though I'm half their size, half their weights and clearly one-quarter portion of their immune systems.
Bridget, plea-
Unless I can get those Hollywood vitamin-shot things then nevermind. They just give me those giant disgusting antibiotics and then I feel worse.
I'm bouncing up and down as I explain myself. This is why they give me Nyquil with my dinner though I made it through all of the Olympic coverage and watched all five flights of the dance short program last night. See if I can do it again. I had a glass of ginger-ale, a glass of orange juice, a mug of hot chocolate and then a glass of whiskey and ginger-ale. Then a bowl of cereal at ten pm. My dreams were incredibly weird.
Must be the Rice Crispies, I told Lochlan sagely as he tried to pin me down long enough to take my temperature. We were naked, and going to see this play, only instead of seats they had bunkbeds and they wouldn't let men and women sit together-
Fever dream. He laughed. You should go back to bed.
Instead I went grocery-shopping with PJ and when we got home Ben yelled at PJ for letting me outside and then at me for going outside. I muttered At least I had clothes on, considering in my dream I stripped down pretty fast. I really wanted to see that play.
PJ gave Ben a hearty middle finger and laughed. PJ knows you've got to get out the tranquilizer dart out to slow me down because some creatures move too fast and I'm one of them.
Ben frowned his scowly, scary frown and asked if I would take it easy this afternoon so now he and I are lying on the big sectional couch in the kitchen (great room combo, hard to explain) watching bobsleigh replays and I'm painting my nails with Sally Hansen polish in 'Expresso'. Ben said it was tongue-colored and has been making sick jokes all afternoon since. He put on my leg warmers. He said he was going to become a figure skater next winter but it's simply too late to start training now because the Olympics will be over by the time he's ready.
And I sound like a donkey when I laugh.
It's just a cold!
You said that like two weeks ago. I'm calling the doctor.
No! But it came out strangled, squeaked through a sore throat that only hurts when I stop moving and don't you know, I refuse to do that because then I'll be admitting weakness and no one does that around here. I have to keep up with the boys even though I'm half their size, half their weights and clearly one-quarter portion of their immune systems.
Bridget, plea-
Unless I can get those Hollywood vitamin-shot things then nevermind. They just give me those giant disgusting antibiotics and then I feel worse.
I'm bouncing up and down as I explain myself. This is why they give me Nyquil with my dinner though I made it through all of the Olympic coverage and watched all five flights of the dance short program last night. See if I can do it again. I had a glass of ginger-ale, a glass of orange juice, a mug of hot chocolate and then a glass of whiskey and ginger-ale. Then a bowl of cereal at ten pm. My dreams were incredibly weird.
Must be the Rice Crispies, I told Lochlan sagely as he tried to pin me down long enough to take my temperature. We were naked, and going to see this play, only instead of seats they had bunkbeds and they wouldn't let men and women sit together-
Fever dream. He laughed. You should go back to bed.
Instead I went grocery-shopping with PJ and when we got home Ben yelled at PJ for letting me outside and then at me for going outside. I muttered At least I had clothes on, considering in my dream I stripped down pretty fast. I really wanted to see that play.
PJ gave Ben a hearty middle finger and laughed. PJ knows you've got to get out the tranquilizer dart out to slow me down because some creatures move too fast and I'm one of them.
Ben frowned his scowly, scary frown and asked if I would take it easy this afternoon so now he and I are lying on the big sectional couch in the kitchen (great room combo, hard to explain) watching bobsleigh replays and I'm painting my nails with Sally Hansen polish in 'Expresso'. Ben said it was tongue-colored and has been making sick jokes all afternoon since. He put on my leg warmers. He said he was going to become a figure skater next winter but it's simply too late to start training now because the Olympics will be over by the time he's ready.
And I sound like a donkey when I laugh.