Sympathy for the Feeble

My wife, son, and I have been passing through the Vale of Disease (No, not St. Louis. Jeez! What do you guys have against St. Louis, anyway?) these last several days. Meaning, of course, that we've been sick. First my 20 month old son with copious snot and a bad attitude, followed quickly thereafter by my wife with her fainting spells and hysteria (just like a good Victorian), and then me and my perpetual grumpiness, general uselessness, and a disturbing tendency to lie prone on any moderately flat surface for long periods of time.

Of course, many would say such symptoms are actually quite common to each of us even in health, but I can say that they have at least been accentuated of late.

Now I've always assumed that The Sick had pretty luxurious lives, mostly stemming from my experience staying home sick from school. I wasn't required to go to school, and was able to sleep all I wanted, watch tv, play video games, read comic books. You know, bliss.

So despite my natural tendency to judge the sickly pathetic, I was still jealous of them. Even in later years, when I was sick, there was usually someone around to help me, bathe me in pity, or just make me orange juice. But when everyone is sick, you all just sort of lay around and groan. Which can get pretty boring.

And as a parent, you can't really shirk your responsibility to care for your spawn, even if you're sick, which means you can't really relax. So life is pretty much as irksome as it always is, except you have more headaches. And you're bored. Well, more bored.

Bah.

I hate being sick.