It's The Flu Season...Bah Humbug!
In 1978, Erma Bombeck, published a hilarious book entitled If Life is A Bowl Of Cherries, What Am I Doing In The Pits? It was a funny account of her family life.
My mom used to read it every year, And I remember her and my dad laughing. Forty years later, it's still pertinent, and just as humorous. These days, I feel like the pit that has been spit out of the cherry, onto the floor.
Usually, I can see the humour in a situation, but today, my funny bone is broken. The past few days, my son and I have been battling some gastrointestinal flu. It's a race between he and I to get to the bathroom. He's faster, so he usually wins. My toilet and garbage pail haven't seen so much action since last New Years eve. I can't even plead a hangover to warrant feeling this bad. Flu season, tis the season.
I have so many things I wanted to do this week, put away my fall decor, and give my house a good cleaning, walls, windows, floors before puthing up my Christmas decorations. Instead, the only thing getting a good cleaning is my stomach and colon. There will be no elf on a shelf today, and if there were, it would probably be drop kicked across the room just to wipe the annoying grin off its face.
I have a box of jingle bells I bought last week for my grandchildren. I thought it would be cute to put them in a apothecary jar, until they wanted to jingle them. Instead, of still sitting in their box, my cats have managed to open a corner, and have knocked the box off my mantle, so I now have jingle bells all over my living room floor. Every time someone moves, a bell gets kicked, but it sounds merry as it moves! How festive indeed.
My Christmas pillows, are waiting patiently, along with holiday throws, to dress up my sectional. Instead of gracing my living room, they are hosting my sleeping cats, probably hiding some of my jingle bells too.
I'm not even going to think about my beautiful, beloved, flocked Christmas tree, held in a plastic bin, waiting to pop it's cheery head up, I, on the other hand, want to throw my tree out of its bin, and crawl in there myself, hiding away until I need to dash to the bathroom once again.
I can hear Christmas carols on the radio, and rumblings in the bathroom. Hey, everybody sings in their own way.
Yes, the flu season and the Christmas season are both upon us, rest, relax and stay calm. I'm sure if Erma Bombeck were still alive, she would tell us, after 50, never trust a fart!
My mom used to read it every year, And I remember her and my dad laughing. Forty years later, it's still pertinent, and just as humorous. These days, I feel like the pit that has been spit out of the cherry, onto the floor.
Usually, I can see the humour in a situation, but today, my funny bone is broken. The past few days, my son and I have been battling some gastrointestinal flu. It's a race between he and I to get to the bathroom. He's faster, so he usually wins. My toilet and garbage pail haven't seen so much action since last New Years eve. I can't even plead a hangover to warrant feeling this bad. Flu season, tis the season.
I have so many things I wanted to do this week, put away my fall decor, and give my house a good cleaning, walls, windows, floors before puthing up my Christmas decorations. Instead, the only thing getting a good cleaning is my stomach and colon. There will be no elf on a shelf today, and if there were, it would probably be drop kicked across the room just to wipe the annoying grin off its face.
I have a box of jingle bells I bought last week for my grandchildren. I thought it would be cute to put them in a apothecary jar, until they wanted to jingle them. Instead, of still sitting in their box, my cats have managed to open a corner, and have knocked the box off my mantle, so I now have jingle bells all over my living room floor. Every time someone moves, a bell gets kicked, but it sounds merry as it moves! How festive indeed.
My Christmas pillows, are waiting patiently, along with holiday throws, to dress up my sectional. Instead of gracing my living room, they are hosting my sleeping cats, probably hiding some of my jingle bells too.
I'm not even going to think about my beautiful, beloved, flocked Christmas tree, held in a plastic bin, waiting to pop it's cheery head up, I, on the other hand, want to throw my tree out of its bin, and crawl in there myself, hiding away until I need to dash to the bathroom once again.
I can hear Christmas carols on the radio, and rumblings in the bathroom. Hey, everybody sings in their own way.
Yes, the flu season and the Christmas season are both upon us, rest, relax and stay calm. I'm sure if Erma Bombeck were still alive, she would tell us, after 50, never trust a fart!
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