Recovery


This past week can be wiped off the charts and I’d be all the happier. I hated every moment of it. An alien creature made its home in my stomach from Sunday night through Friday night and I haven’t been so miserable in years. The headaches he brought were the worst; I have a newfound appreciation for people suffering from migraines. Five days without children in the house all morning and afternoon, and I couldn’t even watch a movie because my head would explode. Such a shame.

Jon and the kids were great during the ordeal – Jon took them to Tommy’s Pizza (Maria came home and said “I wish you got sick more mom because then we’d get to go to Tommy’s with dad!”) and let them watch nightly episodes of Duck Dynasty.

Maria was my caretaker. She ran upstairs every day after school and asked how I felt. She felt my forehead and made sure I had water. The second day she made me hot tea, bananas and oranges. She made sure the covers were wrapped snug around me.

Mario was my entertainment. He came upstairs at bedtime and ran naked next to the bed saluting me “Good night dear ma’am!” He closed the bathroom door in our bedroom and sang on the toilet. When Jon came up to scoot him out, he meekly opened the door and whispered “hold on a minute, man. I have some girls in here to chat with for a while.” Jon looked at him quizzically.

“They broke through the window, dad. They wanted to talk to me so badly.”

Jon and I and Ri looked at each other and all knew what each of us was thinking “Crazy, crazy Mario.”

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After a few more days of Ri’s nurturing, I have finally started to come back to life. As Maria scolded me after I told her to just put me out of my misery the other night “our family never gives up!”

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So take that mr. alien!

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