Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Day Eighteen: Overheard in the Sand Castle & Latest Plague Unleashed

Morning dawned at the Castle.

Jack offered his usual and highly-annoying commentary. Below is a mere sampling.

Regarding medicine: "I'm not going to take Strattera. I hate it. It is poison, like cyanide. Don't you know what that is?"

Erin notes in the background, "Just the word Strattera makes him go into involuntary ....

Upon the zillionth directive to pour a drink and present himself to his mother for the med: "Whenever I even think about Strattera, I feel nauseous."

To which the Wicked, Lost-all-semblance-of-anything-resembling-patience-or-empathy Crab Queen responds: "Whenever I even hear you talking about Strattera, it makes me want to strangle you silly. Get over here and get it overwith."

But, wait, it's never too late for the Glorious Lunch Money Panic: "I don't have my 2-dollars...number one, I'm going to starve and number two, I'm going to be late!"

To which the Wicked Crab Queen responds (on virtual autopilot): "Money is in my purse."

Earlier, however, I did notice -- after Tim tried to whack me with his left arm -- a line of little sores from his elbow to his mid-forearm. Seven of 'em. Hmmm, thought I, could be bug bites. Hmmm, expounded Auntie Patty Cake, could be acne. Hmmm, wondered I aloud (taking a dramatic cue from Jack), could be that flesh-eating bacteria from exposure to middle school gym class!

Demonstrating great poise and composure, I slapped some hydrocortisone cream on them and covered them with bandages and sent him on the school bus. Did e-mail the nurse at his middle school, which he'll arrive at about 1:40 p.m., a request for a professional medical opinion. I have not looked at webmd, which is Really Restrained of me!

Of course, frequent readers will recognize that this is potentially Plague Three!

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