Day Three Hundred Ten

Shel Silverstein Kinda Day


"Sick" By Shel Silverstein

'I cannot go to school today, '
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
'I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more-that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut-my eyes are blue-
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke-
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is-what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is...Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play! '

I love this poem and have to confess, there are days when I feel like Peggy Ann McKay myself. Yesterday was one of those days for me - and for Boo!

After I had my little incident with lizard poop yesterday, I was worn out. I reluctantly got dressed to go to the store, only to discover my car battery was dead. I asked the neighbor to jump start it for me, which he did, but then he had me terrified to drive it anywhere because he said the battery was probably shot.

He played out the scenario for me - I would make it to the store, then find out when I got back in the car, the battery was dead again. Only this time, instead of getting my nice neighbor to jump start it, I would get a serial killer who would murder me and take my car, which they would later find ditched in one of the numerous open retention ponds we have so many of in Florida. I went back in the house, locked the door and kicked off my shoes.

I did not mind one bit being housebound. In a pinch, I can eat toast for supper. It was Andy I worried about, but I managed to find stuff in the pantry to make a decent meal. The day would have been rather mundane had it not been for Baby Boo!

Now, we are used to Boo! tearing around the house at warp speed. Sometimes she wipes out, as in, she goes so fast her back legs spin around when she tries to stop. Everyone stops and raises their eyebrows when she does this; it is that impressive. So, for her to be missing in action was very disturbing.

I looked in all of her usual hiding and/or stranded when the door gets shut places - the comforter on top of the dog kennel in our bedroom, under the bed, outside, the pantry, the laundry room, the bathtub, the closet, behind the mirror, under another bed, inside a different bathroom, under the couch, on top of the cabinets, in the cat tree, in the other cat tree - no where. It never occurred to me she might be in her tiny bed on top of the dining room table. But that's where she was, all curled up. I covered her with her blanket, gave her a kiss and figured she must have gotten cold outside and needed some time to warm up.

She was still there sound asleep, hours later, when Andy got home. I was now panicking, because she rarely stops for a minute let alone hours. I checked her ears to see if she was hot, as in feverish. I checked her gums to see if they were white. They were not. I checked her tummy to see if it was bloated, hard or squishy. It was fine. Her eyes looked okay, too. I was puzzled. We (Andy and I - I'm not the freaking Queen of England...) decided to watch her and, if she was still puny in the morning, we'd take her to the vet.

Boo! was back to her old self this morning; tearing around both inside and out. She was okay enough to harass her brothers - Chance got hissed at and Dash got chased down and attacked. I was so relieved.

I hate that they can't tell me what hurts. I have to guess. The thing is, I suspect if they could tell me I'd be a nervous wreck because I'm fairly certain they would play me like a Stradivarius.