We’ve been sick for a week.
It sucks being sick, but it sucks even more when you’re both sick at the same time, and can’t take care of one another. Poor Matty’s had fever and chills, and a temperature hovering around 101 degrees Fahrenheit (38C). I got away easier, probably because I’m overall more rested.
Being sick and pulling out the old mercury thermometer reminded us of childhood days, and for some reason, the humiliating old butt thermometer. Why did it have to go up the butt, we wondered. What was wrong with the mouth?
Do kids these days even know that such a thing existed, now that we have thermometers with five-second digital readouts or patches that can just be stuck onto the head? Oh, the things they missed out on. Kick the can. Sardines. The freedom from cell-phone auto-location. Butt thermometers.
We also debated which was better, the punctuated equilibrium version of being sick, or the slow evolution version? I argue for the slow evolution, Matt argues for punctuation. He says it’s better to feel like hell, throw up, and feel relief than to just feel like hell for five days straight. I say give me five days of utter crap and let me skip the vomiting, thank you. I vomited enough to last me a lifetime when I was a practicing drunk.
The textiles have pretty much been laying where they fell when we were took sick. But we are on the mend, and the rosemary is growing.