I am not Getting Sick. I am not Getting Sick. Oh, Crap. I’mb Sick.

I woke up at 3 A.M. mid-sneeze. I don’t remember having ever been woken up by a sneeze before. I’ve woken myself up laughing, or talking, but never sneezing.

My top teeth are itchy. How amb I supposed to scratch my teeth? I make tea and put a microwavable heating pad in the microwave (duh) to then drape across my nose and forebheab. Ahhhhhhhhhh. That’s much better. If Richard comes downstairs and feels my heab he’ll think I have a fever of 106 degrees.

I don’t know what made me think I could take care of my sonb who has been homeb for a solid week with an upper respirbabtory virus and not get sick. I feel like such a hibocrite because all I do is go on and on about the sinus rinse I do every night and how it keeps meeb from getting sinus infections like I used to all the timeb. I tell him that he should do it, too. Well, it has been over a year since I’ve had anything like this, so I guess it has been working.

The tea and the microwavable heating pad are already helping me to feel less crappy. But wait. Itchy teeth! Here it comes! Ahh- ahh- ahh- snorff. A sneeze-cough. I amb breathing through my mouth because myb nose is otherwise engaged. It is trying desberbately to get air to flow through it, but I think it is a futile endeaber.

It is nice to be up right now, howeber, because I’mb watching the snow falling peacefully outside. We’re supposed to get up to 10 inches tonight. Bring it on. I’mb not going anywhere for awhile anyway.

Last night my nephewb Joey who has been sneezing and coughing, his girlfriend Rachel, who hasn’t caught this virus somehow, Lucas, the initial germb monger , and I decide to stay in and watch the movie “Best In Show” and be sick together. I bought a King Cake so they could experience trying to find the baby in the cake. None of them has ever heard of a King Cake with a baby inside. They think I’mb crazy, but they always think that.

We begin by cutting the cake into squares and everyone takes one. No baby yet. I realize I can’t remember what it means if you get the baby in your piece of cake. Does it mean you win? Win what? But none of us has found it in our second piece either. At that point I grab the knife and start whacking at the cake looking for the baby. I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to find the baby in the cake, but we were beginning to think we got the one cake in the entire store that didn’t hab a baby in it.

After stabbing the cake into a pile of crumbs, Rachel finds the little plastic baby that was hidden in the cake. It is not at all cute. “It has a butt crack,” Joey says. I take the baby and look to see if it is anatomically correct in any other way. Nope. Just a butt crack. I realize the kids think I am out of myb tree because what we see in front of us on the table is a hacked up cake with a plastic baby with a butt crack staring at us from what was originally a nice cake box. Sombhowb, I don’t think that’s the whole point of the cake. The icing is yummy, though. Gotta love Marti Gras!

We watch the movie but miss a lot of dialogue because one of us is either sneezing or hacking at somb point every two minutes. Lucas and I hab seen it before, but we wanted Joey and Rachel to see it. I think they liked it, but it was hard to tell.

My arms are getting tired of typing. My teeth are getting itchy again. Must go lie down with the microwavable heating pad from the microwave on my face for awhile. I’ll be back.

I’mb back. Dayquil rocks. But only for 4-6 hours. Then you must take it again. The microwavable heating pad from the microwave also rocks. Other than that, the only thing making me happy right now is the butterscotch candies Richard brought home for me last night. Oh, and also reading Confessions of a Shopaholic on loan from my friemd Boberta.

Uh-obe. Itchy teeth again. Ahh-ahh-ahh-snorff. This is not funb. I amb going back to bed. Hab a nice day.

12 thoughts on “I am not Getting Sick. I am not Getting Sick. Oh, Crap. I’mb Sick.

  1. Boomba do I need to bring you some of my chicken soup? I will you know. Let’s see if I get on Amtrak and head east I will get there just about the time your getting over your sickness.I think the baby in the cake means 6 more weeks of pregnancy. No wait that’s the groundhog. It means you get to play hide the pickle. No that’s in Sex Games. Let’s see what does that danged baby mean?

  2. OK. Hiding the pickle ornament? I have no idea what that is but I would really like to! Please elaborate!I will definitely watch the movie again and look for the photos you are referring to. It’s like Airplane! Every time I watch that movie there’s another little thing I notice. If you haven’t seen it for awhile watch the beach scene when they’re kissing in the sand and the water comes up around them. When it ebbs back, you’ll see a catfish flopping around. Priceless.

  3. I never heard of the baby in the cake. I’ve heard of hiding the pickle ornament, but not the baby-cake surprise.I’m sorry to hear you’re sick. I’m a big fan of Thera-Flu. It seems to knock me out at night.Best in Show is a great movie — the dialogue and the props are great. If you get the opportunity to see again, look at the pictures and such on the walls of the guy sponsoring the dog show.

  4. Thanks, SillyStud! I do finally feel better. Yea! Your cyber hugs must have done the trick. Either that or the antibiotic kicked in. Maybe it’s a little bit of both.I can’t believe no one told you there was a baby in the cake. Ouch! And, yes! Jennifer Coolidge rocks! Funny that her HUSBAND’S name in that movie is Leslie.

  5. Eating my first piece of King Cake I got the baby in my first bite and thought I had broken a tooth… The host had failed to explain the baby for those of us who had never heard of it… Some people tell the story of the girl with the engagement ring in the champagne – I tell the story of the Mardi Gras Baby…And I love Jennifer Coolidge in Best in Show…Hugs for your recovery…

  6. Leslie, who let you handle a knife when you were under the influence of cold drugs? I’m betting that baby didn’t start out with a buttcrack–I think you hacked it a new one with that knife you were wielding!By the way, I note that the ‘verification word’ I have to type to get my comment posted is ‘mograne.’ I don’t know if that’s the headache you get from watching too much Three Stooges, or a baldness cure for gay men. Love, Dennis

I love comments!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s