Monday, September 15, 2003
Like Crap
It's Monday morning and I feel like crap.
It hit me yesterday at the Dominican birthday party. Tony the super invited us to his son's first birthday party, which is a big deal with the Dominicans. Their basement apartment was decorated with balloons and a million small porcelain figurines. They had big tubs of arroz con pollo, little girls with frilly pink dresses, and a five part birthday cake decorated yellow and pink.
We were the only gringos. It should have been great. Too bad I started to feel sick. It was one of those illnesses that jumps up and whaps you in the face. One minute I was fine, and the next I wasn't.
This morning, before Steve left for work, was a disaster. Whiny wife and whiny kids. The kids have runny noses and probably sore throats, too. Jonah wasn't listening. "Jonah, stop crashing your cars." "Jonah, stop crashing." "JONAH, STOP CRASHING. OK. TIME OUT." I think Steve was happy to leave us for the relative peace of the subway.
One week after Jonah starts pre-school and we're sick already. That place is a plague factory. Kids, you know, are filthy. They ooze from every pore and then kiss each other. Every new virus thrives happily in those kids. We had a break over the summer, but now that school has started again, we're back to battling germs.
It's Monday morning and I feel like crap.
It hit me yesterday at the Dominican birthday party. Tony the super invited us to his son's first birthday party, which is a big deal with the Dominicans. Their basement apartment was decorated with balloons and a million small porcelain figurines. They had big tubs of arroz con pollo, little girls with frilly pink dresses, and a five part birthday cake decorated yellow and pink.
We were the only gringos. It should have been great. Too bad I started to feel sick. It was one of those illnesses that jumps up and whaps you in the face. One minute I was fine, and the next I wasn't.
This morning, before Steve left for work, was a disaster. Whiny wife and whiny kids. The kids have runny noses and probably sore throats, too. Jonah wasn't listening. "Jonah, stop crashing your cars." "Jonah, stop crashing." "JONAH, STOP CRASHING. OK. TIME OUT." I think Steve was happy to leave us for the relative peace of the subway.
One week after Jonah starts pre-school and we're sick already. That place is a plague factory. Kids, you know, are filthy. They ooze from every pore and then kiss each other. Every new virus thrives happily in those kids. We had a break over the summer, but now that school has started again, we're back to battling germs.
