Skip to main content

Frosty Air, My A$$

Poor Gus, so sick he couldn't even stay awake while I got my hair done!
I don't think I keep my wintery thoughts inside, but in case you are unaware, I dislike cold. I dislike snow. I dislike dry skin. I dislike static. I am not a huge fan of winter. I could live in a tropical locale very happily. But, I am Canadian. No hopes for tropics here. 

 I have to tell you, however, my distaste for frosty weather pushed aside.... this weather has got to go. An Ontario winter shouldn't be, as December draws to the end, seeing the plus side of the thermometer. That mercury needs to take a drastic dip. And quickly!

 My poor wee man, Gus, is down and out. Sicker than I have ever seen him. Not just the man cold either, he is legit ill. Germs have run rampant in this balmy wintery weather and infected him with a triple threat. Bad enough he has caught the dreaded influenza virus (and by Influenza I don't mean the gastrointestinal version, I mean the full blown fever, shakes, runny nose, drippy eyes, body aches, etc) but he decided to throw Strep Throat and Bronchitis in there too, just for extra kicks.

 This little trio has wreaked havoc in my home in 4 excruciatingly long days. A trip to the emerge department on Sunday discovered he likely had strep, but we were waiting until the results before meds. However, when that little chest of his started to seize up, we went for a four hour trip to the local hospital on Monday night (yeah, 4 hours) to discover bronchitis, then today they confirmed the strep. Explains why the little guy can't stay awake for more than an hour! 

 My dear son was kind enough to share with me too. I think I am suffering from the Man Cold though. With Gus out of play, I actually had to empty the dishwasher MYSELF. I flipping hate that job. That's Gus' job, but I didn't think I should wake him from his fevered slumber to put away dishes. 

 It wasn't without moaning and groaning that I did this dreaded task. I was like a full blown man, in the midst of a cold, trying to maneuver around the kitchen. Ugh, argh, ohhh, wahh. I needed Pam to bring the Nyquil for sure. I did manage to grudgingly and painfully slowly get the dishes put into their respective places. And in the process I actually started to feel a little better. I guess laying on the couch whining really doesn't make you better. Who knew?! With my new found dish putting away energy I actually managed to accomplish a few more chores too. And get a tiny spring in my step. I don't want to say I am working at 100%, I am not there yet, but I am doing my best to fight this bug.

 I am going to continue to complain about it, however. I wouldn't want the man cold to be wasted on me.
So as our conversation began... Let's get this winter crackin already! We want some iciness to freeze the shiznit right out of the germs. Put those pestering bugs to bed and say sayonara until the big defrost. I hate to wish for a temperature cold enough to freeze my you know what, but enough already! Bring it Winter, show us what you've got! 

 And really, a green Christmas? C'mon that's for wimps, not us tough Ontario residents. Dump it on us, give a festive White Christmas and murder those frickin parasites... and on that happy note, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Festive Kwanzaa, or whatever your winter celebration may be, I hope it is the very best it can be!!! 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Restaurants, Long Weekends and Resentment

Do you have a bathroom? After years of being in the restaurant business, I cannot express the happiness I feel at the prospect of having a long weekend off! Long weekends in a restaurant mean more work, longer hours and resentful thoughts to all those happy travellers who stop in and ask "do you have a bathroom?" To which you are always tempted to say, no, sorry we don't, there's a bucket out back you can use though. Do you have a bathroom? I am always shocked when I hear people ask this question, what the heck!? Of course, there is a bathroom! Whether you can use it or find it, now that is the real question. "Do you have a menu?" Nope, sorry we aren't that type of restaurant. "Is everything you have on the menu?" No we have a secret menu too, but we only show that to people we like. Last table in the restaurant... "Oh sorry, are we holding you up?"   Would you like something to drink... "No- I'll hav...
Post a Comment
Read more

Ruffling my Feathers

  I received my first “call from the principal” last week. He informed me that Gus had been in a fight. I am pretty sure my “I don’t give a @#$*” attitude surrounding the call did not go unnoticed.   However, I know my kid and if he got in a fight, well 1 of two things happened 1) his little fiery Greek temper reared its ugly head (that’s hereditary – so to be fair how can you get mad at a kid for his heritage??) or 2) someone really pissed him off. It seems it was the latter. It all had to do with a ball. I would venture to guess that this is what most 10 year old boys fight over; ball possession.   Seems the “victim” of this fight stole a ball and wouldn’t give it back when asked politely and then not so politely with a shove as he walked away. As it were, it came to fisticuffs. Later, when having the “talk” about the altercation, Gus explained to me, that after the first push by him, the other boy pushed him to the ground and started wailing on ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sock, The Dog & The Aftermath

At approximately 5pm Thursday March 19th an incident occurred.   It was an error on my part, but also WTF?  I was busy cooking dinner, chicken breasts with olive oil were on the stove. I was happily frying away when I went to flip a breast and a giant glob of boiling hot oil/chicken goo flew from my spatula and landed directly landed onto my socked foot. My foot began to feel the burn and I quickly pulled my sock off and threw it aside. Disaster averted. Or so I thought. I continue to make dinner and the sock remains on the floor. As dinner is nearly done Apollo awakes from his nap, spots the sock and in turn has found himself a new toy. He picks up the sock and begins to play. I partake in this game for a few minutes letting him run and frolic with the sock. But dinner is nearly ready. Enough!  I use my best authoritative voice and say, “Apollo! Come. Sit. Drop!” He stops his zoomies around the kitchen island and follows the first two commands beau...
2 comments
Read more