Everybody in the house saving yours truly has been sick of late. Even the Iron Immune System himself, Elder Son. Admittedly, for him it was two days of sore throat and one day of general tiredness and cough... whereas it knocked his brother and sister down for a week apiece. And of course, his mother has now been a sack of fertilizer for a couple days.
I hate times like that. I'd almost rather be sick myself.
Last night, as I sat up trying to work, the coughing started from Younger Son. Okay, he's not sick any more, but we suspect him of asthma. Once he gets any kind of cough, it lingers like... no, I'm in a bad mood. The simile I was considering would only get me smacked. So I'll just say this: Younger Son gets a cough, it sticks around like something deeply unwanted that simply refuses to go away.
Right. I got up, got my torch, and started the medications. A puff of this. A puff of that. Half an hour later - no effect. So it's up again, and this time he gets a dose of cough suppressant.
About the time the cough suppressant starts to work on Younger Son, the Mau-Mau starts to cry in her bedroom. Fucking great. I get up, and I start the interrogation process. The Mau-Mau is only four, and she sleeps like a brick would, if brick's weren't such goddam tetchy and irritable things. Even when she's crying, she's still asleep. But she can cry loudly, and if I don't do something she'll wake up Natalie, who is exhausted after delivering babies over the weekend and coming down with this stupid fucking cold.
After a while, the Mau-Mau reveals that she has 'aches'. Yeah, fine. Ever heard of 'growing pains'? Well, the research is long since in: they're real. I'm not interested in arguing with anyone on it, because I grew up with 'em myself, and I recall the sleepless nights. Elder Son used to get 'em something fierce, and now, apparently, the Mau-Mau is in the same boat.
I'm too tired to fuck around with placebos. She gets a dose of painkillers.
About the time the drugs start to work on the Mau-Mau, the fucking dog starts barking. Why? He never barks at night! What's up his goddam arse?
So I grab the torch and head out the back door. Oh... it's started to rain. And the goddam kids have left the poor bastard chained to the back deck for the last four hours. Better let him off the hook.
Let's see: that's Younger Son, the Mau-Mau, and the dog. Elder Son? Quiet. Natalie? Ahhh, yes.... better fetch the cough meds upstairs for her.
Plod, plod, plod.
This morning, Natalie wasn't up to much so the breakfast bullshit fell to me. Okay, fine. But of course, I'll be back down the hill to Scottsdale before eleven to collect Elder Son... we've got a day of home learning to do. And meanwhile, the Mau-Mau is stretched out on the couch, coughing wetly.
Plod, plod, plod.
