334
R. Linda:
So here I be, voice gone, cough bad, headache, body aches, sneezing and general malaise, and what do I get? Me wife came into the room with a huge cuppa tea compliments of me Mam, who was busy getting her coat on elsewhere.
"Dear, I'm taking your parents to the mall to do a little shopping. We'll be back as soon as we can. Is there anything I can get you?" Tonya said, placing the huge cup on the nightstand.
I appreciated the gesture, but no, I said, I have everything I need. I was eyeing that tea, my stomach doing flip-flops at the sight of it. I ripped me eyes from it and glanced at the tissue box to make sure I still had plenty of those. I was clutching several tissues in me hands, waiting for a sneeze that didn't seem to be coming, wondering if I should sit up a little in bed and then maybe it would finally relieve me of the feeling. As I was contemplating this, Tonya was going out the door and couldn't hear me hoarse reply when she threw over her shoulder THIS: "Oh, and the boys are playing in the living room."
I was like, WHAT? I be sick in bed, you are never leaving me with THEM? But I couldn't talk; all I could do was struggle to get up, but I was caught in the bedclothes, and I fell on the floor with a thud all a tangle when I heard the door close. THEY WERE GONE! I lay there motionless, staring up at the ceiling, me brow furrowed in annoyance, me head filled so I could not hear. But I did have this feeling of eyes watching me. I turned me head to the doorway, and there stood both boyos looking down at me.
"Da's okay," I reassured them. "Just a little tangled," I tried to laugh but noticed they looked back at me with consternation on their faces and then looked at each other like "Whadhe say?"
I realised that the word Da came out hoarsely, but the okay was no more than a whisper, and they didn't hear it or the rest of what I said. Oi! I tried again, and this time, they heard me, and both, shrugging shoulders, left me to unwrap meself from the bedclothes -- by meself. Great, I thought, I be homesick, and I be babysitting. Yea! Wonderful!
About five minutes later, I had wrapped meself in the bed cover, and sniffling me way out of the room, I plopped meself with tissue box on the couch to watch the two boys. They were playing well, and I started to dose when I was rudely awakened by someone tugging on my pajama sleeve. I opened me eyes to the littlest one with his face next to mine, looking into me eyes, like what was I doing. Well, I knew sleep was not about to be mine, so I smiled and hoarsely asked if there was something he wanted.
"Yeah, Da, he wants milk," O'Hare said, still playing with his Thomas the tank set on the floor beneath me.
I was handed the empty bottle by the smallest one himself, and with much effort, I shuffled meself to the kitchen, where I filled the bottle and then shuffled back and handed it down and watched as it was placed on the floor, not a sip taken. I shook me head and fell back down onto the couch. I flicked the telly on, wrong move, because I was informed in screaming unintelligible curses by Baby Guido that he didn't want to look at any stinkin' CNN, and the other one calmly looked up at me and pointing at the clicker, informed me CARTOONS were on channel 56. Cartoons, yeah, well kid, no cartoons for you! So I ignored them, but the cursing got more intense, and O'Hare got -- I that told ya so -- attitude going with the "I told ya, channel 56 or HE won't stop screaming."
So, channel 56 it was. I closed me eyes as Sponge Bob raced around the screen screaming for being chased by jellyfish and I tried to blot it out, but I couldn't. I lowered the sound and started falling into a semi-doze when the telly got very loud. I found meself sitting bolt upright, eyeballs bugging out of me head at the fright, as the baby had the controls and was ramping the sound up. I grabbed it away, me heart pounding from the sudden fright, and then the wailing started that I had the clicker. It was insane, I tell ya, one explaining the other's behaviour and telling me I had no clue what his brother wanted and the other one cursing at me and shaking his fist. I was appalled.
I could hardly breathe, and I lost it; I started yelling, but yelling sounded like a radio you couldn't quite tune in all the way. They both stopped what they were doing and looked at me like I was the most amusing thing in the world. They pointed at me and started laughing, and O'Hare's saying, "Ha ha, Daddy can't talk," didn't help me any.
After four, yes, FOUR HOURS of this, the shoppers came home. Yes, all merry, lively and having had an enjoyable day. YUP! They gave the boyos hugs and kisses and had special treats and then there was me. I got, "Gabriel, what are you doing out of bed?" OH GOD, I DO WONDER WHAT I AM DOING OUT OF BED! And "Gabe, the kids give you any trouble?" Well, I no longer had a voice that could answer that question, and if I looked neat and composed, then you could say they didn't, but I did not look neat and composed. No, indeed, me hair was standing straight out where when I did happen to get a few winks, O'Hare had put some kind of purple gel in me hair and did his best to give me a Mohawk, and did they happen to notice the baby food I was wearing down the front of me pj's where the youngest had flung turkey and noodles at me because he didn't like that particular flavour of baby food? Do you think these things, along with me teary eyes, runny nose, and lack of composure, might be an indication that Gabe did not have a very enjoyable or easy time of it might give them a hint?
Of course not.
I went back to me bed, I try to talk, but I croak and even me croak is not intelligible. I think me voice be gone forever, SIGH. And when I told me muse this, that probably no more recorded silly messages of me talking because me illness and babysitting duties had killed me voice, and that with me klutzy ways it would be too much to hope I could ever learn sign language properly, SNIFF, what did YOU say?
You wrote me this, And I quote:
LMAO
oops sorry. I meant to say, ooooh, you poor poor thing.
WHATEVER! Stop trying to yell; either trip the kids when they run by or pop one upside the head and shake your finger at them. LMAO
Don't even mention being sick. I start feeling ill. power of suggestion. I think my throat is swelling! LOL, I shouldn't laugh. tomorrow, I WILL be sick..sigh
put a warm cloth or something around your neck and drink some semi-hot tea. and if you're coughing? STOP IT!
I went through laryngitis from coughing fits. want to see people do a happy dance? the day I can't talk. LOL, and of course, they all tried to make me talk, asking all kinds of questions, pissing me off. DIDN'T I TELL YOU I CAN'T TALK gonna go watch a recording of the Simpsons.
Thanks a lot! You drop off that bit of sympathy, and that's stretching it, to the fact you basically wash your hands of me problems because YOU are going off to watch the telly, the Simpsons no less. A cartoon! And that remark about having some semi-hot tea? Really? Tea? That's all ya got there, Ms. Muse?
OH GOODY, HERE'S ME SAINTED LITTLE MAM WITH A CUP OF GUESS WHAT! This is just great. Someone shoot me now!
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
So here I be, voice gone, cough bad, headache, body aches, sneezing and general malaise, and what do I get? Me wife came into the room with a huge cuppa tea compliments of me Mam, who was busy getting her coat on elsewhere.
"Dear, I'm taking your parents to the mall to do a little shopping. We'll be back as soon as we can. Is there anything I can get you?" Tonya said, placing the huge cup on the nightstand.
I appreciated the gesture, but no, I said, I have everything I need. I was eyeing that tea, my stomach doing flip-flops at the sight of it. I ripped me eyes from it and glanced at the tissue box to make sure I still had plenty of those. I was clutching several tissues in me hands, waiting for a sneeze that didn't seem to be coming, wondering if I should sit up a little in bed and then maybe it would finally relieve me of the feeling. As I was contemplating this, Tonya was going out the door and couldn't hear me hoarse reply when she threw over her shoulder THIS: "Oh, and the boys are playing in the living room."
I was like, WHAT? I be sick in bed, you are never leaving me with THEM? But I couldn't talk; all I could do was struggle to get up, but I was caught in the bedclothes, and I fell on the floor with a thud all a tangle when I heard the door close. THEY WERE GONE! I lay there motionless, staring up at the ceiling, me brow furrowed in annoyance, me head filled so I could not hear. But I did have this feeling of eyes watching me. I turned me head to the doorway, and there stood both boyos looking down at me.
"Da's okay," I reassured them. "Just a little tangled," I tried to laugh but noticed they looked back at me with consternation on their faces and then looked at each other like "Whadhe say?"
I realised that the word Da came out hoarsely, but the okay was no more than a whisper, and they didn't hear it or the rest of what I said. Oi! I tried again, and this time, they heard me, and both, shrugging shoulders, left me to unwrap meself from the bedclothes -- by meself. Great, I thought, I be homesick, and I be babysitting. Yea! Wonderful!
About five minutes later, I had wrapped meself in the bed cover, and sniffling me way out of the room, I plopped meself with tissue box on the couch to watch the two boys. They were playing well, and I started to dose when I was rudely awakened by someone tugging on my pajama sleeve. I opened me eyes to the littlest one with his face next to mine, looking into me eyes, like what was I doing. Well, I knew sleep was not about to be mine, so I smiled and hoarsely asked if there was something he wanted.
"Yeah, Da, he wants milk," O'Hare said, still playing with his Thomas the tank set on the floor beneath me.
I was handed the empty bottle by the smallest one himself, and with much effort, I shuffled meself to the kitchen, where I filled the bottle and then shuffled back and handed it down and watched as it was placed on the floor, not a sip taken. I shook me head and fell back down onto the couch. I flicked the telly on, wrong move, because I was informed in screaming unintelligible curses by Baby Guido that he didn't want to look at any stinkin' CNN, and the other one calmly looked up at me and pointing at the clicker, informed me CARTOONS were on channel 56. Cartoons, yeah, well kid, no cartoons for you! So I ignored them, but the cursing got more intense, and O'Hare got -- I that told ya so -- attitude going with the "I told ya, channel 56 or HE won't stop screaming."
So, channel 56 it was. I closed me eyes as Sponge Bob raced around the screen screaming for being chased by jellyfish and I tried to blot it out, but I couldn't. I lowered the sound and started falling into a semi-doze when the telly got very loud. I found meself sitting bolt upright, eyeballs bugging out of me head at the fright, as the baby had the controls and was ramping the sound up. I grabbed it away, me heart pounding from the sudden fright, and then the wailing started that I had the clicker. It was insane, I tell ya, one explaining the other's behaviour and telling me I had no clue what his brother wanted and the other one cursing at me and shaking his fist. I was appalled.
I could hardly breathe, and I lost it; I started yelling, but yelling sounded like a radio you couldn't quite tune in all the way. They both stopped what they were doing and looked at me like I was the most amusing thing in the world. They pointed at me and started laughing, and O'Hare's saying, "Ha ha, Daddy can't talk," didn't help me any.
After four, yes, FOUR HOURS of this, the shoppers came home. Yes, all merry, lively and having had an enjoyable day. YUP! They gave the boyos hugs and kisses and had special treats and then there was me. I got, "Gabriel, what are you doing out of bed?" OH GOD, I DO WONDER WHAT I AM DOING OUT OF BED! And "Gabe, the kids give you any trouble?" Well, I no longer had a voice that could answer that question, and if I looked neat and composed, then you could say they didn't, but I did not look neat and composed. No, indeed, me hair was standing straight out where when I did happen to get a few winks, O'Hare had put some kind of purple gel in me hair and did his best to give me a Mohawk, and did they happen to notice the baby food I was wearing down the front of me pj's where the youngest had flung turkey and noodles at me because he didn't like that particular flavour of baby food? Do you think these things, along with me teary eyes, runny nose, and lack of composure, might be an indication that Gabe did not have a very enjoyable or easy time of it might give them a hint?
Of course not.
I went back to me bed, I try to talk, but I croak and even me croak is not intelligible. I think me voice be gone forever, SIGH. And when I told me muse this, that probably no more recorded silly messages of me talking because me illness and babysitting duties had killed me voice, and that with me klutzy ways it would be too much to hope I could ever learn sign language properly, SNIFF, what did YOU say?
You wrote me this, And I quote:
LMAO
oops sorry. I meant to say, ooooh, you poor poor thing.
WHATEVER! Stop trying to yell; either trip the kids when they run by or pop one upside the head and shake your finger at them. LMAO
Don't even mention being sick. I start feeling ill. power of suggestion. I think my throat is swelling! LOL, I shouldn't laugh. tomorrow, I WILL be sick..sigh
put a warm cloth or something around your neck and drink some semi-hot tea. and if you're coughing? STOP IT!
I went through laryngitis from coughing fits. want to see people do a happy dance? the day I can't talk. LOL, and of course, they all tried to make me talk, asking all kinds of questions, pissing me off. DIDN'T I TELL YOU I CAN'T TALK gonna go watch a recording of the Simpsons.
Thanks a lot! You drop off that bit of sympathy, and that's stretching it, to the fact you basically wash your hands of me problems because YOU are going off to watch the telly, the Simpsons no less. A cartoon! And that remark about having some semi-hot tea? Really? Tea? That's all ya got there, Ms. Muse?
OH GOODY, HERE'S ME SAINTED LITTLE MAM WITH A CUP OF GUESS WHAT! This is just great. Someone shoot me now!
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment