Tuesday, May 23, 2006
In Which Zombie Has EVEN MORE Funs, As If Such a Thing Were Even Possible.
It was an interesting weekend here at Casa del Zombie. If by "interesting" we mean "absolutely and utterly horrifying," that is.
Sunday, I am sitting here, fiddling around on the computer and my daughter is playing behind me. I hear a thump and a scream, which isn't unusual, because, as we have discussed before, my daughter is Very Graceful.
So I turn around and am confronted with this:
Well, okay, no. That is what I would've seen if my daughter was actually Sissy Spacek and in a film adaptation of a Stephen King novel.
It's strikingly similar, though, since my daughter had somehow managed to whack her face on the floor and slice her forehead open while simultaneously giving herself one hell of a bloody nose.
I have never seen so much blood in my life, y'all, and I have given birth to two children and been in numerous car accidents.
Anyway, I was good. I did not panic. I ran over to her, picked her up and ran her upstairs, crooning nonsense like "It's okay! Chill out! Just a little scratch! Fix you all up!" while thinking nonsense like "Her face came off! How did her face come off? Oh man! Face! Came! Off! HORROR!"
Once I got her to the kitchen, I grabbed many paper towels and cleaned her up. Upon clearing the blood away from her face, I found that it was just a small cut, nothing to get stitches about, and felt better. See, because while I remember that headwounds bleed like a biotch, it's different when it's your kid's head that's bleeding like a biotch. Then you think her face has come off and what will you do with a kid with no face? The neighbors will talk.
So, after I got the bleeding to stop, I changed her clothes and sent her outside. Then I sat down and cried. Because that is what you do when you think your kid's face has come off.
After that, I caught Ebola.
I am sick as a dog. (Why do we say "sick as a dog"? Do dogs get Ebola? I know not.) My fever has finally broken, but I had a temp of 102 for two days straight, and that was LAME.
See, when I get sick, it can't be normal, because I have the FMS. So what would be, like, you coughing twice is like pneumonia for me. What would be the sniffles for you is Ebola for me.
A heretofore unknown side effect of Ebola is that it ruins my comedic timing. Absolutely wrecks it.
Witness the following conversation between myself and my Boss on MSN yesterday morning.
Boss: Is Secretary in the office?
Zombie: I dunno. I am not there. I am sick.
Boss: What's the matter with you?
Zombie: I have bird flu.
Zombie: Okay, okay. It's not bird flu. Perhaps it is the monkey pox.
Boss: WHAT? Where would you have picked up something like THAT?
Zombie: Okay. It is not the bird flu or the monkey pox. It is Ebola.
Zombie: I am joking? Ha ha? Funny?
Boss: Not so much.
Note to Self: Do Not Tell Boss You Have Ebola Unless You Really Do, Because She is Not Amused.
But this does not stop me from announcing that I have Ebola/bird flu/monkey pox to OTHER people, though, does it? Oh no. It does not.
Meredith's School Secretary: You look rough. Are you okay?
Zombie: Just a touch of the avian flu. No worries.
School Secretary: Uhm...
Zombie: Okay, it is not bird flu. It is monkey pox.
School Secretary: That's all right then, I guess?
Meredith's Teacher: Do you need to go to the hospital or something? You look...bad.
Zombie: No, it is okay. It is just the Ebola acting up again.
Zombie: I keed, I keed. I am fine.
Can't a girl joke about a little hemorrhagic fever without people getting all pissy about it? Sheesh.
So I am still home from work today, so as not to spread the Ebola to the rest of the people at the office, which I am sure they all appreciate. I feel marginally better, so I suppose I shall return to work tomorrow.
I might wear one of those hospital masks and some rubber gloves, though. Just to freak them out.
link | posted by Zombie at 7:48 AM |
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