Feeling Pukey
By Antonios Maltezos
I suspect I’ll eventually stop talking about the distractions, but from where I’m sitting right now, that seems impossible. Woke up this morning with what feels like a hangover except I haven’t had a drop of booze in over a week. I’m thinking it’s my turn with the gastro that’s already afflicted two of us here at the Chez Maltezos. The way Zoe described it, her teacher was blue about the face all Tuesday morning until sometime in the afternoon when she had her event. You know how children tend to tell the best parts first? Apparently, her teacher ran out of the classroom, abandoning the children mid-lesson, mid-sentence it seems to me, so she wouldn’t pull a Linda Blair right there in front of them, scarring them for life. Her violent retching heaves could be heard throughout the school.
I gave Zoe the third degree once I’d heard of the excitement. I wanted her to backtrack, try and remember if she’d come into close contact with this teacher. Poor kid was stammering because she knew where I was going with this. My wife and I are very strict when it comes to hand washing and keeping the school germs at school.
She then told me about this boy that was laughing while the teacher was in the washroom.
“Dad, I got so mad. I told him he was an idiot.”
(Oh, oh) “Well that was nice of you, sweetheart. So did you help her when she got back to class?”
“Maybe there was some contact when I helped her with her coat. Dad, she was so sick, she had to go to the emergency.”
So here I sit, after four days of helping with the puke duty. Dad! Dad! Apparently I’m the only one immune to the nausea associated with wiping up other people’s puke. Dad! Dad! Eek! Dad! So here I sit after four days of this, the novel, the journal, on hold but not forgotten, thinking I should slowly be making my way to the can.
I suspect I’ll eventually stop talking about the distractions, but from where I’m sitting right now, that seems impossible. Woke up this morning with what feels like a hangover except I haven’t had a drop of booze in over a week. I’m thinking it’s my turn with the gastro that’s already afflicted two of us here at the Chez Maltezos. The way Zoe described it, her teacher was blue about the face all Tuesday morning until sometime in the afternoon when she had her event. You know how children tend to tell the best parts first? Apparently, her teacher ran out of the classroom, abandoning the children mid-lesson, mid-sentence it seems to me, so she wouldn’t pull a Linda Blair right there in front of them, scarring them for life. Her violent retching heaves could be heard throughout the school.
I gave Zoe the third degree once I’d heard of the excitement. I wanted her to backtrack, try and remember if she’d come into close contact with this teacher. Poor kid was stammering because she knew where I was going with this. My wife and I are very strict when it comes to hand washing and keeping the school germs at school.
She then told me about this boy that was laughing while the teacher was in the washroom.
“Dad, I got so mad. I told him he was an idiot.”
(Oh, oh) “Well that was nice of you, sweetheart. So did you help her when she got back to class?”
“Maybe there was some contact when I helped her with her coat. Dad, she was so sick, she had to go to the emergency.”
So here I sit, after four days of helping with the puke duty. Dad! Dad! Apparently I’m the only one immune to the nausea associated with wiping up other people’s puke. Dad! Dad! Eek! Dad! So here I sit after four days of this, the novel, the journal, on hold but not forgotten, thinking I should slowly be making my way to the can.
posted by Antonios Maltezos | 7:53 am
5 Comments:
It hit here yesterday. We try to keep a constant string of illness going all fall. At least one child should miss school/daycare at least two days of each week.
p.s. My daughter is at the CLSC right now getting caught up on her vaccinations, because there is no way that we can manage any additional childhood diseases.
Oh, man, I feel for you, Tony. I remember those infection-laden days when my kids were little. Lay in some ginger ale and get better!
Oh, boy! Do I have a puke story for you! My mother in law on Christmas Day, a half hour before the turkey was due to be served. A house full of people and the kitchen doorway was blocked with... yanno.
My sister-in-law spent the next two hours with MIL in the bathroom while I had to deal with the rest of the mess.
Funny, I can deal with it when family members are affected, but every time I see that scene in The Meaning of Life, I can't stand it. I have to leave the room for ten minutes.
Real ginger beer, not Canada Dry, will settle the tummy, poor fella.
Thanks for the tips, folks. I'm feeling less stressed now because I just got home. I'm going to lay flat and get a good night's rest. I'm beat, and so is the wife, not that any of the kids care. Still feel terrible for not continuing my journal though. Next week. Thanks again, guys.
I feel sick...
Post a Comment
<< Home