Pink eye sucks

“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, She also writes, edits and manages her blog, She can be reached at


Disney ups prices, tears down dreams (but not mine)

Disney 1993
Disney 1993
The “Wonderful World of Disney” – or in this case, not so much the world, but the company’s top executives, recently made the decision to increase the cost of an adult ticket to $92. The cost of a child’s ticket (ages 2 and UP) are now $87.
Now, we all know I am not a mathematician, but even I can round up to come up with the number of roughly $400 for a family of four to walk through the gates and enter “The Most Magical Place on Earth.”
Do the executives think we all have magical money trees growing in our backyards too? The last time I ventured out back to my lot, I only saw cottonwood trees and the only things blowing from them were the cottonwood puffs, which in turn made my eyes itch and water.
Now it seems as if the cost of tickets to Disney is making parents eyes water with tears of frustration.
I guess I am part of the minority when I say “I have zero desire to take my children to the most magical place on Earth.”
To me, walking around with a billion other people, standing in line to ride rides that are less than 2 minutes long and buying food that eats up an entire paycheck, is not what I have in mind when it comes to “family time” on vacation.
Then again, I should probably mention I have already been to Disney in Florida when I was in band (cue, remember that one time, at band camp …) as a freshman in high school.
Here’s what I remember about my “wonderful trip to Disney …” (and yes, I know, I have these “GREAT” memories, so don’t tell me, “At least you have those memories Melissa!” because I know I have them as they are embedded in my mind for all eternity.)
1. We ate dinner at some ancient place while we watched men on horses battle. We were served a small chicken – sans silverware – because they did not use utensils back in time. It was gross.
2. I got lost with Allison Beerbower, who then tripped over a fence, as we were trying to make our way back to find our band members.
3. I got “felt up” by a “duck” (man in costume) when we were taking photos with the duck. Pervert!
4. Epcot Center was boring.
5. I got the chicken pox on the last day of our trip. I rode nearly 24 hours on a bus back home, clipping my nails and applying calamine lotion all over my body. Let’s all keep in mind I was 15 years old, so yes, you must feel bad for me when reading this … high school. Freshman. Chicken pox.
So, back to Disney folks raising the cost to get it … it’s a screw job – plain and simple. If they want people to meet Mickey Mouse and the rest of the Disney gang, they are going to have to take a long look at the people who WANT to visit. Most of them do not have $400 sitting around a drawer at home. Most of them do not have enough money to get them through a week of food at their own home, let alone pay the cost of meals at Disney.
Plain and simple – money does NOT grow on trees in the United States of America.
But maybe it does grow on trees at the “Wonderful World of Disney?”