Friday, November 15, 2013

Bad Habits And Typhoid Mary

   Don't you love it when you have a three day weekend and you have some plans to get shit done, to manage to finally check a few things off on the eight mile long to-do list that you have been trying to get to for months and then BAM!!! -- sickness. I cooked myself a pot of crockpot lima beans, some of the best things ever, and I got sooooo sick after eating them. I thought I had managed to give myself food poisoning. How did you manage to poison yourself with lima beans, you might ask. Well, I'm Southern, and while lima beans might seem like a nice healthy option, nothing remains healthy after a Southern person gets a hold of it. My lima beans were cooked with ham hock, to give them flavor, and I thought the ham hock had gone bad or something, because I was sick, bad sick, and my stomach felt like it was trying to escape.
   So I slumped around the house, whining, got on facebook, and whined, and did my usual 'curl up at the bottom of the shower', with lots of hot water, as a method of pain management, and I whined there too. There was an awful lot of whining going on, and I even went over to my sister's and whined as well. What can I say? I used to be all stoic and 'eff you pain', but I've gotten soft. Don't judge me.
    Needless to say, my to-do list was ignored. But as I slumped around the house, sick as a dog, unable to keep anything in my stomach, trying to find something, anything, that wouldn't come up, I realized that my daughter has a really, really bad habit. I've known this for a while, because I've been cleaning up after this habit for a while. but for some reason this habit just hit me as I fought this war with my body, trying desperately to force my digestive system to fall back in line. I went to get a package of saltine crackers, and I knew that we had some because the box was still in the cabinet, so I reached in for a package and found -- air. The box sitting there in the cabinet, bold as you please, was empty. Because my daughter had taken the last pack, but she left the box as a kind of momento: crackers were here. But now, they were gone. And I realized that this wasn't the first time either, because I started recalling empty hot pocket boxes, empty pop tart boxes, and a long, long list of other food items, whose empty boxes I have been culling from the cabinets, fridge, and freezer for months. Ack! How did I not nip this in the bud already? I am death on cleaning; I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! So anything that reeks of me having to clean up some one else's mess when they are perfectly able to doing said cleaning on their own is usually nipped in the bud. All I can do is repeat what I have already said: I'm getting soft. However, I have not gotten so soft that I am allowing this habit to continue. Now that I acknowledge the problem's existence, the problem will be eradicated.
   And the three day weekend, which wasn't really a weekend at all being as these days off fell on Tues-Thurs, passed with me believing that I had poisoned myself with my own cooking. Then came today (Friday), which was my first day back to work, and my daughter is being considerate and asking me if I am feeling better and I am telling her I do feel better and thanking her for asking. The next words out of her mouth are, "I hope I don't get sick. Kids in class have been getting that stomach flu all week."
Treacherous little Typhoid Mary. 

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