Yesterday morning I woke up with a scratchy throat. Thankfully, it dissipated as the day wore on, and I hoped that was the end of it. Unfortunately, as afternoon turned to evening, I could feel it coming back. And then I woke up at midnight, feeling like I had swallowed razor blades, with a lovely little low-grade fever. After a restless night, I am tired and achy and my throat is still sore.
As a kid, feeling like this would have been the perfect excuse for a sick day. My mom would tuck me into the couch with blankets and pillows, and bring me glass after glass of ginger ale. I would lay on the couch and watch The Price is Right and I Love Lucy and The Wizard of Oz. I would doze off and on throughout the day, and usually by the following day, I would be well enough to go back to school. The only downside to this sick day (aside from, you know, being sick) was having to ingest some Tylenol to get my fever down. This was either before liquid children’s Tylenol was widely available, or before my parents were aware of its existence. My mom would crush up the tablets and mix them up with brown sugar or jam, which did very little to make it more palatable. Still, though, it was a pleasant way to spend a day every now and then when I was under the weather.
As I’ve said before, as a parent, there are no sick days. The girls still need to be fed and dressed and Charlotte needs to get to school and Penelope has physiotherapy (ugh). Laundry still needs to be done and dinner still needs to be prepared. So I will take some Tylenol (minus the brown sugar and jam) and muddle through. This afternoon, during naptime, I think I will abandon my plan to go to the gym and lay on the couch instead, watching Gilmore Girls or Friends. And hopefully by tomorrow, the razor blades will be gone from my throat and the achy feeling will be gone from my bones.