Pasteurized….

i don’t get sick.  Seriously, i have – for reasons unknown to me – developed the immune system of a cockroach during the course of my life.  In the past ten years, i can COUNT the number of times i’ve been sick.  A bout with strep 10 years ago, a few rounds of the pesky 24-hour stomach virus (one delightfully timed to coincide with Girl Scout Cookie deliveries).  Mononucleosis, contracted in the Cambodian jungle trip in 2006 (initially mistaken for Malaria).

Head colds?  Rare.  Maybe twice.  That was until this season.  i have had the same fucking cold – passed to others for mutation prior to return to my nasal cavities – THREE times.  It’s a minor annoyance, and costs me about $10 in Kleenex each time.  But i’m sick of it.  Since November, my head has been weighed down with extraneous lugubrious secretions and i can’t stand it…

Friday night, returning from a happy hour drunk fest work, both of my children were home.  i made the mistake of whining about being sick, as i curled up under a blanket in the living room.

The Boy:  Wow.  She’s really starting to fall apart…

The Girl:  Really.  Do you think it’s time we had her put down?

The Boy:  Yeah… starting to get pathetic, isn’t she?

daisyfae:  Hey!  It’s a fucking cold!  But you know i don’t get sick… how many times have you seen me sick?

The Girl:  Should we take her for a ride in the country?

The Boy:  C’mon, Mom!  It’ll be nice!  We’ll take you out to a field, where you can frolic around with a lot of other middle-aged women…

Punk’d

Last week was busy, between a two-city roadtrip and trying to support the family crisis by remote.  When driving to The Park Friday, i realized that other than a brief conversation with The Girl to sort out the insurance claim for her car, i hadn’t talked to either kid.  Rang them both up – no answer, so i left messages. 

About 10 minutes later, The Boy called.  Almost immediately, the phone ‘binked’ letting me know i had another call coming in – from The Girl.  Knowing that conversations with The Boy tend to be brief, i figured i’d finish up with him, and call her back afterwards.  Besides, i’m not good mucking around with the phone while driving*.  The ‘binking’ continued – seemed The Girl was impatient to talk, so i wrapped things up with The Boy and hung up.

Working the “missed calls” register, i returned the call to The Girl.  Or at least i tried.  Was aggravated when The Boy picked up. 

daisyfae:  Shit.  Sorry.  i was trying to call The Girl.

The Boy:  You’ve been punk’d!  We decided to both call you back at the same time to see which one of us you love more.

Yep.  The little bastard was visiting his sister.  When i called them both in succession, they decided to synchronize the callbacks to see what happened if i got calls from them both at exactly the same moment.  Since that didn’t work, The Boy just kept hitting redial on his sisters phone the entire time we were chatting.

Talking with The Girl, she was jokingly resigned – “guess you love him more”. 

Not really the case, though.  i simply tend to worry about him more.  For those of you who’ve been following along, this will come as no surprise

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* i’m much better at sending e-mails from the blackberry while driving.