“Hello Stan …” I yelled from the kitchen, down the hall to my son going to the bathroom. “How did you sleep?”
“Well, I think I have some pink eye …” he said from the crapper.
That is my new phrase – “Everything is AWESOME,” followed by, “Fuck me.”
I get that of all the shit the kids can bring home from school, pink eye is the “best of the bunch” – at least it’s not lice, the flu or some other funky communicable disease. (However, my 40-year-old HUSBAND “caught” pink eye LAST WEEK, so this HAS to be his fault, right?)
But pink eye is just enough of a disease to warrant staying home from school.
He’s watching TV now, or what he can see through his crusted-over eyes … and I am here being a good mom, blogging about his crusty eyes.
We are both winners.
Back when I was younger, my parents had to deal with chicken pox. I was a good girl though … I didn’t get that childhood illness till I was 15. BOOM … I saved them a lot of stress – no one had to stay home with me. They just gave me a tub of ice cream and left me at home with the TV and my homework.
Wait, there’s a good story behind the chicken pox …
After I reached third grade and didn’t get them, my parents would purposely send me over to homes where kids actually had chicken pox in the hope I would get them. It never happened until my younger brother got them.
The first pox I noticed was on my stomach … oh, wait, I wasn’t even in the same state at the time as my parents. No, this is my “That one time, AT BAND …” story. I was with the band, in Florida … at Disney – the most MAGICAL PLACE ON EARTH (my ass) …
The 24-hour BUS ride BACK to Ohio was the worst time of my life.
They quarantined me on the bus where everyone had already had the virus. There I sat, right by the bus driver … and clipped my nails off (snip, snip, snip) and I rubbed calamine lotion all over my body.
I was every 15-year-old boys’ DREAMGIRL.
And then I missed a week of school … only to go back with scabbed-over pox all over my face. I was working that shit. The dates just rolled in after that, I couldn’t even keep up!
Anyways, back to my kid … since he’s a twin, there’s a 99 percent chance that when his sister wakes up tomorrow morning, she too will have “some pink eye.” I wonder if I could bribe the pediatrician into giving me two scripts for the same meds … he has to see this coming …
About the author:
Melissa Linebrink is a reporter/bi-monthly columnist for “The Mommy Wars” printed in The Chronicle-Telegram. She has been featured as a blogger on the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop site, www.humorwriters.org. She also writes, edits and manages her blog, https://parenthoodthenewcrazytrain.com/. She can be reached at email@example.com.