Tuesday, August 31, 2010

I Have A Cold. You Have Too Much Information.

I have a cold. Or allergies. I don't know. Whatever it is, it is killing me, y'all. I sound like a cross between Eartha Kitt and Barry White after they've stayed out all night singing karaoke, swilling whiskey, and smoking stogies in a seedy cocktail lounge. (Now that I think about it, it might be kinda cool to see that.) Oh, me and my phlegm--so sexy. The worst part is that when I cough, I cannot cough and do anything else, for coughing requires that I stand still and cross my legs. I've had 5 children. They have all tap danced on my bladder. My bladder cannot take the stress. I can't cough with confidence. (That should totally be a tag line for an adult diaper. "Peepee Pads--Cough with confidence!") Too much information? Yeah, well, you should know better than to expect a filter from me.

The worst part of that is when you are walking along with someone, carrying on a conversation and all of a sudden, you have to stop, cross your legs, and cough. If it's someone who knows you well, they just sort of wait for you to recover and catch up before they respond with a snarky comment like: "Need a bucket?" If you are walking with someone you don't know well and you stop, cross your legs, and cough, well, let's just say it's awkward and leave it there, shall we? If it's a first grader that you are walking with, one of two things will happen: they will either be completely oblivious that you have stopped walking and just continue on in their own little world, or they will absolutely notice that you have stopped walking and then ask 742 questions about why you have stopped, why you are coughing, what causes coughing, when you think your cough will go away, and apropos of nothing, if you knew that their grandpa wears suspenders.

I love first graders.

Also? I love Nyquil. Although I'm betting my beloved wishes that I would figure out another way to sleep. Evidently Nyquil makes me snore--or snore worse than I do when I have a Nyquil-free night. I'm not sure if he'd rather have me coughing or snoring.

Yeah. I know. My poor beloved. He's married to a coughing, snoring, leg crossing woman with sexy phlegm that makes her sound like the love child of Eartha Kitt and Barry White. (Insert wolf whistle here.) Lucky, lucky man.

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