I had been fighting it for a week. I drank gallons of orange juice and popped vitamins like candy. But these efforts only served to delay the inevitable arrival of the summer cold.

I hate to admit it, but I am a wimpy sick person. This is a shameful confession and I hope I have not let any of my female friends down. Typically, the whining and the moaning and the groaning come from the male species while women muscle through sickness requiring little from anyone other than Kleenex and a humidifier. However, when I’m ailing, I put out an all points bulletin alerting extended family members and beg my mother to come over just so that she can put her cool hands on my forehead.

Speaking of my mother - I have to blame it on her. As a child, when I was sick, she would bring me a white wicker tray with a bottle of Dr. Pepper and a bell that I could ring when I needed her. I know. It’s pathetic. I’m a baby. I’m a wimp. But I’m ringing my bell….someone please take care of me!

Leave a comment

Name:

Email:

URL:  

Remember personal info?

Captcha:

Type the characters you see in the picture above.