The flu is washing over me, eroding away all the good health that has kept my body strong. I’ve been sick the whole month of November. My youngest son is the culprit who gave it to me at the beginning of this month, as it continues to hammer away at me daily to the point where I gave it back to my son just recently.
I slept all last weekend, which is a rarity since I try to pack the hours my boys and I have together, which are full of fun stuff for them and me. Instead, the 72 hours were filled with about $200.00 worth of On Demand movies of cartoon pandas and wooden toys we have repeatedly seen.
I lay flat on a perfectly soft and awesomely comfortable bed, but the boys chose to lie on the bony parts of my knees and shins. So now the super comfortable comforter rises as high as my knees so the boys can snuggle under them. At the same time, I am forced to make a makeshift blanket from the laundry that I had intended to fold but is now resting on top of the bed.
I grab several T-shirts and place them over my chest. I blindly reach over, grab a pair of blue jeans, and rest them over my stomach. I fish for all my clothes, hook a pair of socks, and place them over my thighs. Okay, a few pairs of socks over my thighs. Until finally, I just grab a smorgasbord of clothing and litter it all over my body.
I laugh at them while they laugh at Kung Fu Panda. The boys continue to snicker at the same place at the same time on the same movie, like a laugh track. The giggles fill the air, which is better than any sound you hear at a laugh factory.
I hate to get up. I just want us all to get better. I can’t laugh or talk without coughing, which I have failed at. It’s hard not to disturb my boys when my legs get numb, or I have an itch that I want to scratch but can’t move because I don’t want to disturb them. So, I usually softly wedge my finger under their body to scratch my itch or flex my feet to stretch my tingling numbness untilI finally have no choice but to move.
“It’s the weekend, guys,” I say as I climb out of bed.
My cabin fever is already setting into my anxiety-filled body because I have the itch to go out. Still, I’m too numb with sickness to leave. My boys want to go on an adventure and would be ready to go instantly, but instead, they remain in the comfort of the bed. I use better judgment, walk out to the living room, and stare outside like a prisoner longing to taste his freedom.
I turn around, stare at the inside of the house, and decide to get my imagination going. So I grabbed some of this and found a little bit of it. Tie this to that and weigh this down to whatever that is. I extend one end to the other and hang it on that while I close one end in the bathroom door and drape another over a chair. Finally, it looks like something that resembles something in my mind.
I walk into the bedroom and shake and rattle the boys. They laugh in excitement and begin to chase me. Past the door, down the hall over the couch cushions, and into the cabin, I made of bed sheets throughout the living room. Catch me if you can, boys. Let the adventure begin.
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