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.
