Monday, September 20

If people don't die of colds, then what I have is probably ebola

Now I can say it for sure: One of the all-time worst ways to spend a Friday night is lying on the couch in a near-delirious stupor from a dangerously high fever. Friday night was one of the weirdest and worst nights I've had in quite some time, which was inconvenient, since early Saturday morning we were throwing a combined garage sale with my parents and my friend J.

Noah—Lord bless him—tended to me and to Ethan, who during the night woke up twice unable to breathe through his nose, then spent eight-plus hours in the sun earning us a little over $100, YEE-HAW!

What we will do with this small fortune has yet to be decided, since I think it's best for me not to make decisions when I'm recovering from malaria. Or whatever it is that causes your tonsils to swell so much that they're visible from the outside and makes taking a gel tab of cold medicine tantamount to swallowing a stale kaiser roll, whole. As an added bonus, I finally figured out what my dinosaur name would be: Cold-a-soreus rex. Somewhere beneath the hideous explosion of viral herpes (non-sexual) is what was formerly known as my face.

Mom very kindly came over before 7 a.m. on Saturday to take care of me and Ethan while Noah managed the sale with Dad and J. I tell you this A) So you can congratulate her and nominate her for sainthood, and B) So you know there was a credible witness to what I'm about to tell you.

On Saturday afternoon Ethan, in his underwater-chipmunk-with-sinusitis voice, said he wanted to go see Poppy and Daddy at the "gaj sale," so we walked around the corner to J's house to visit for a few minutes. He was wearing his airplane pajamas and no shoes, and he wanted Mommy and not Nana to carry him, a grueling task for a woman who had just survived the highest fever in history and that was made harder when he stuffed both his arms in front of him instead of wrapping one around my shoulders.

"Ethan, can you put your arm around Mommy's shoulder?" I asked sweetly. And, I kid you not, he replied: "Ahm not gonna do dat. Iss my loife." (Translation: "I'm not going to do that. It's my life.")

So, how was your weekend?


Unknown said...

There's not much worse than being really sick and having to take care of a toddler. They're just so demanding :-) I told my son last week, "Mommy doesn't feel good" (because he gave me his nasty cold), but he just looked at me and wanted me to chase him through the house.

I wonder where your son got his independence at such an early age? I thought "It's my life" was reserved for teenagers.

stephanie said...

wow, erin, i really hope you are feeling better. being sick just sucks.

and i thought my 7 week cough was least i didn't get a crazy high fever. glad noah was a good caretaker :)

Slamdunk said...

Ahh, I hope you all feel better, but just keep that yuck down south.

We are getting over the blahs as well, but nothing fancy.

Jen said...

:( I hope you're feeling better by now! Aren't kids great??

Lisa@Pickles and Cheese said...

Hope you are feeling better soon. Nothing worse than feeling sick and having to take care of a toddler! And where did Ethan get the "it's my life"!? Have you been playing Billy Joel around him lately? :)

Erin said...

tracyellen—I've always considered Ethan to be advanced. Maybe by the time he's a teenager, he'll be ready to settle down and start a career.

stephanie—I hate fevers with a passion, probably because I feel so out of it. And that's one of many reasons—hatred of feeling out of it—why I say no to drugs.

slamdunk—All my illnesses are fancy. It's kind of annoying.

Jen—Thanks friend. Kids are great...if by "great" you mean "attitudey." ;)

Lisa—Actually, Bon Jovi.

The Naked Redhead said...

Haha, his "It's my life" comeback is kind of amazing. I'm pretty sure I'm going to steal it and start using it all the time myself. :)

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