Today I wanted to call in sick. It was one of those days that pre-kids, I definitely would have put my best scratchy-froggy voice on early in the morning and left my boss a voicemail saying, “I can barely swallow, I have 103 fever and just don’t think it would be smart of me to come into the office today. I wouldn’t want you to catch what I have, cough, cough.” I would have put the phone down, rolled over, pulled the covers up to my nose and gone back.to.sleep. Oh, how I miss those days. Instead, at 1:00 this morning I couldn’t stifle my coughs anymore and being the kind, sweet, wife I am, I took my coughing self downstairs to the family room and curled up on the cold couch with a small throw blanket and managed a couple hours of rest (oh woe is me). Until of course, the pitter patter of tiny Hannah feet, found their way downstairs to me at 6:12. “Mommy, daddy said you’re sick. Do you have laryngitis like the Ferocious Beast in Maggie and the Ferocious Beast? You know, the ‘Louder Louder’ one when the beast can’t talk and only can move his mouth but no words come out? You know, that one? I hope that’s not what you have. I won’t understand you and I don’t know sign language, besides ‘I love you’ in sign language which is this (does the I love you signs) so you can’t even just sign the words because I wouldn’t know what you were saying anyway so I hope that’s not what you have, do you think that’s what you have?” I whispered to her that I didn’t think I had laryngitis but I didn’t feel well and didn’t get much sleep so she needed to just sit quietly and watch TV while I rested. Luckily she couldn’t have been happier to snuggle in with me on the couch at that dark hour and watch TV. What a treat.
A treat for her. Not so much for me because I couldn’t call in sick. Because mommies can’t. And now I still feel sick. Sicker actually. Can’t. Stop. Coughing.
So, tonight will be a very short post in an effort to get myself into bed and asleep early (the cough medicine with codeine should help).
I just wanted to share what happened when I picked Hannah up from school tonight. Pictured here
is Hannah and her best friend (at least for the moment, her best friend). The two of them were walking arm in arm in the gym at school when I picked her up. Arm and arm as they often are, but tonight there was a little difference. They both had a large rubber ball stuffed inside their shirts. Like a big pregnant belly. Two four year olds walking around arm in arm, pregnant. And when I went over to them and said, “Hi guys, look at you! What are you doing here?” Hannah looked at me and said, “Oh hi mommy, we’re pretending we’re 8”.
And so it goes.