Throat scratchy, head dizzy, bones aching.  I have been stuck on my couch for the last few days with an annoying, totally inconvenient, virus.  As I sat and stared at the television, I realized whether I am 44 or 15, being sick feels the same.  I feel sorry for myself and want to be taken care of.  At 15, that works; at 44 – not so much.  My mom is not making me homemade chicken soup, tea with honey and jello (which I always hated).  In fairness, my mom might still be doing that, but she died way too young, leaving me to be a full fledged grown-up.  Most of the time, I am fairly good at being a responsible adult.  When I am sick, I must confess I much prefer being the catered-to kid.  Now, I have to give kudos to my husband and sons who did buy me soup and crackers from the store and asked if I needed anything, as they headed out to work or to play basketball, but truly there is nothing like being taken care of by a mom when you are sick. 

Book tip: Reading CardTurner by Louis Sachar.  Putting together a book list for the fall, let me know any page-turners you recommend.

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