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Cure for this flu is worse morning after
(by Christine Thome - May 13, 2009)
BEYOND MY CONTROL, BY CHRISTINE THOME
Cure for this flu is worse morning after
"I don't feel so good," my daughter moaned to me last week.
"What's the matter, sweetie?" I asked.
"My throat hurts, I have a headache, a cough, and my nose is all stuffed up," she sighed as she flopped on the couch.
I was pretty sure it was seasonal allergies, but she was so pathetic I felt the need to baby her.
"Lay down, and I'll put the blankie on you," I said. "Can I get you something to drink, honey?"
"Yes, I'll take some hot tea with a lot of sugar and only a drop or two of milk," she said. "And please straighten out the blanket and make sure my toes are completely covered."
I did as the princess asked and humbly shuffled off to the kitchen to fetch her tea. Suddenly, I couldn't remember if she said a little sugar and a lot of milk or the other way around. I decided to go with my first thought and poured a generous amount of milk into the cup while holding back on the sugar.
"Yuck!" she yelled as she spit a mouthful of tea more onto the blanket than back into the cup. "This is horrible! I hate milk. I told you only a little milk and a lot of sugar. You did it wrong!"
As I looked at my teenager, I was suddenly wishing she was a sweet little toddler again, one who couldn't talk and preferred snuggling to snapping orders.
"I'm sorry," I replied stoically. "I will get you another cup."
"And bring me some of those shortbread cookies too," she yelled after me.
"Please?" I wanted to yell back at her, but I bit my tongue. In fact, I bit it so hard I drew blood. But don't worry about me.
I returned moments later with a plate full of cookies and a warm cup of tea with just the right amount of sugar and milk.
"Oh," she said as I started to walk away. "Can you tell Jack and his friends to be quiet? I can't hear my television program."
"They're all the way in the basement. How can they be bothering you?"
"I can hear them, and they are making my headache worse! Please tell them to be quiet!"
Arguing was futile, so I begged the boys to play outside.
"What do you think is wrong with me, Mom?" she asked between coughs and sniffles.
"Honestly?" I said as I sat next to her. "I think you have a very serious case of the whine flu."
"The swine flu?" she screamed. "If I have the swine flu, you have to get me to the hospital right away and inform the schools, so they can close! Oh, and maybe call Matt Lauer at "The Today Show," so I can be on TV."
"No honey, not the swine flu -- the whine flu," I replied calmly. "I know you're not feeling well, but you have done nothing but whine and complain. It's difficult to feel bad for someone who is not appreciative."
"Is there a cure for what I have?" she questioned, still thinking only of herself.
"Why, yes, there is," I said. "You must go upstairs to your bedroom, shut the door, and, whatever you do, you must not talk. Not even whisper, for it will make your sore throat pain unbearable."
She suddenly realized I was making fun of her. "Very funny," she muttered.
As you read this, you may be asking yourself, "Is the whine flu contagious?" and I am here to tell you, from personal experience, that it is very contagious.
In fact, the whine flu can be very unpredictable, because it mutates slightly from its original form and attacks the caregiver. Once it enters the caregiver's body, it causes its host to feel the urge to self-medicate with liquid beverages in an effort to relax and unwind from the grueling day of caring for a whining, complaining and downright miserable child who does not feel well.
Once the host over-serves herself, she wakes up the next morning with many of the same symptoms of the whine flu, but it has now mutated into the wine flu.
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