|
|
Visit www.WomensMinistriesUnlimited.ag.org for more great tips, articles and resources for Christian women.
I’m sitting at my computer trying to decide if I am lucid enough to pen another inspiring (okay, slightly humorous) edition of Laugh Lines. I vote “yes” and plow into the deepest recesses of my mind; however, I find I can only go about an inch because of the current dose of cold medication I took about half an hour ago.
My two favorite mosquitoes (rather, my daughters) love to share so many things with their mother—namely every flu, cold, bug, revenge or malady that can weave its way through their friends, to them, and on to me. The last “gift” was only a month ago, right when I was expecting an onslaught of relatives for a festive occasion. Now it seems I have unwittingly subscribed to “Virus of the Month Club.” Once again I’m playing host to a vicious little carrier that’s making my head pound and my nose feel as though it weighs 12 pounds. (Attractive picture, eh?)
My husband claims to have found the remedy for all of this. He looks over at our girls, blows a kiss from across the room, then draws an imaginary line around himself that becomes the “decontaminate zone.” Once the lines are drawn, we proceed to Code Orange Level, which means he no longer receives anything from the hands of an infected human. He assures the ailing children that he loves them, tosses each an orange and heads out the door (I ignore his request for a hazmat suit).
Very practical, I think, but someone has to be the nurturing, mop-their-brow parent. So I wrap my arms around them, watch movies, feed soup, pray and wait for health to reappear. Once Code Orange is downgraded to Code Yellow, I usually have a good two or three days before any of my symptoms appear. So I run around like a crazy woman trying to get the laundry caught up and food in the refrigerator preparing for the next potential wave.
This isn’t as crazy as it sounds. Just because my husband remains unscathed by disease does not mean that the now-recovered girls like to stand in pajama pants and eat blackened (we call it Cajun) macaroni and cheese every night while waiting for their mother to return as a member of healthy society. I’ve learned to plan ahead for their welfare when I know I’m going down.
I could say more, but I’ve discovered a new side effect to this cold medicine. It helps my body recover because I stay unconscious for most of the time it’s working. If for some reason I type another article next time that is about the same topic, please forgive me. I have a sneaking suspicion that this one will only be a dream to me once the medicine wears off.
Subscribe to this email newsletter at
www.womensministriesunlimited.ag.org/newsletters