Been sick lately. Flu bug I suspect. I almost always get my flu shot, but this year they were late coming out and I got sick just before they became available. Awesome timing.
I’ve also been involved in a situation that demands a great deal of time and energy, an injustice done to another that has caused me great distress. I want to be of help, but I must become more knowledgeable about the issues before I can do that, which entails some book larnin’ on my part. Plus, I need to bring my emotions under better control. Flying into a rage benefits no one.
So God said, “Lovey, you’ve been running too hot lately. I’m going to take you offline for about a week or so. What do you think?”
I grabbed my pillow and my bankey and hit the couch.
“Do it!” I muttered. And it was so.
The chills, body aches, nasal congestion and loss of appetite passed after about four days, but my chest became congested and my cough remained dry and unproductive. Which meant I needed Benylin Cough Syrup, a mightily effective remedy but of such a vile taste it is surpassed only by Buckley’s, my mother’s favourite. I once tried Buckley’s on her recommendation, and couldn’t decide if I wanted to pass out or throw up. I did neither thankfully, but thereafter pledged my loyalty to the “pleasant cherry taste” of Benylin. I wish I could be more mature about taking the stuff, but I cannot swallow a spoonful without a complete body shudder, stamping my feet, and making my lemon-sucking face.
“Interesting choreography,” The Mister said walking past me.
“Quiet,” I replied, “or I’ll breathe on you.”
It did the trick though and that’s why I take it.
A few days later, a friend called up to see how I was.
“Well,” I told him, “I’m better now, but I had to call out my big gun – Benylin Cough Syrup. Ever hear of it?”
“Benylin? Oh sure! We used to give that to the horses every winter to stave off chest congestion.”
“Horses?”
“Yeah! You can get it by the bucketful, you know.”
I put the phone down and thought, “I’ve never felt so attractive.”
The Mister was perusing the paper in the kitchen when I came in.
“Who was on the phone?” he asked not looking up.
“Jim. He wanted to know how I was. Did you know Benylin Cough Syrup is horse medicine?”
He looked up.
“Horse medicine?”
“Mm-hm. Apparently they give it to them all winter long to protect their lungs.”
“They do?”
“Oh-ho yeah. You can get it by the bucketful don’tcha know.”
He thought about that for a second, then asked, “Is there anything I can say right now that won’t get me into trouble?”
“Unlikely.”
He nodded and returned to his paper. “How ’bout them Cubbies?” he murmured.
This wouldn’t bother me so much except, well, I’m awfully fond of oats….
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