Monday, January 29, 2007
The Downside Of Parenting: The IRS And Having A Virus Monkey In The House
My daughter came home sick on Friday after spending all day with a few other kids. This wasn’t just any kind of 'sickness' and definitely not the kind we’re used to. Nope, this was the evil kind.
The moment she got into the car she started spewing like the love child of Chucky and the Exorcist - it freaked us out! (Would you believe that this is our first experience with this type of sickness in her 18 months of life.)
Weird junk was flying all over the place - onto her, the car, the wife, the iPod(!) – with her arms flailing in the air like Richard Simmons, and putting her hands in “the line of fire” and then back onto herself. Yup, and it just kept coming out, intermediately, as if she had some secret chamber in her that we didn’t know about until that moment (human’s really are 90% fluid – no doubt about that anymore.)
It continued at home throughout the night. The poor thing couldn’t sleep and just wanted to cuddle the whole time - which is about the only upside to her being sick - except for the times she started spewing again (I’m really considering inventing vinyl sleepwear for parents...)
As a parent it really breaks my heart to see her in so much pain; I really wished I had some magical superhuman powers, like He-Man or Oprah’s 300 billion dollars, to make it all go away - but I don’t. I’m just an ordinary human being that plays the accordion just like everybody else. My powers are being a human pillow, a Pedialite waiter, and knowledge of the infamous BRAT (banana, rice, apple, toast) diet - watching her eat, and then watching it come out again (thar' she blows!)
We knew it was finally over the next day when she started asking for Potato Chips and Chicken again. What a relief! All was right in the world once again - birds started singing, the sun came out, and David Hasselhoff arrived home safely that morning without a DUI and black eye.
That’s until the wife called me at work crying on the phone, revealing to me that she now has ‘the darkness’ in her.
Now, I’m afraid to go home. Scared, really anxious and worried about getting sick too. It feels as if the IRS, armed with their butterfly nets, are waiting for me to come home tonight. Sitting on my living room sofa listening to my Tom Jones CD’s, and playing with my Nintendo Wii…(help me Oprah…!)