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| The Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner of Ill Superheroes (Cinnamon is Great for Fighting Viruses. Probably.) |
But, as we all realize, even Wonder Woman has her shapely, spray-tanned Achilles heel. Of course I am making reference to her deadly allergy to Kryptonite. Or it to to the latex in her bustier? I can't remember, as I suffer from both, and get the two of us confused, due to our uncanny physical resemblance.
As I was saying before the Wonder Woman trivia distracted me, even we valiant superfighters find ourselves vulnerable to forces greater than our superpowers. After courageously continuing my laundry/vacuuming/homework/nagging schedule throughout the first phase of my current illness, I have waived the white flag. Actually, nothing in this home is white right now, because I am too weak to do laundry. The best I can muster for a truce flag is a dingy brown sock, and I am too exhausted to wave it. Fortunately, our socks are now so dirty that it could probably stand unassisted and wave itself.
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| This is not an actual picture of me. This woman looks fabulous. I look like a troll. |
I conveniently failed to mention that my present ailment is nothing but a head cold. I was hoping that before I got to that disclaimer, you would already be on your way over here with some hot cocoa and a season of "Spongebob Squarepants" on DVD to alleviate my agony. Maybe just a small army of maids would also have been nice, but I don't want to seem needy.
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| This, however, is a real photo of me while ill. (Or at least a highly realistic artist's rendering.) |
Yes, the common cold is generally a harmless annoyance. But mine is really, really bad. It has resulted in my inability to microwave the over-processed, pre-packaged burritos I long to offer my deserving children. I simply do not have the energy to dispose of the paper plates resulting from such a meal. They got quesadillas on whole-wheat tortillas (feel free to insert that word "heroine" in here again) instead. Those do not require plates, forks, or even hands, if you think about it. Thank goodness for those genius, pre-mixed fruit/veggie juice blends. It's almost as if food manufacturers are thinking specifically about me, and I wish I could personally thank them, but my throat hurts so badly that if I talk I might cry. And, that would be an awkward introduction to Mr.V8 and Mrs. Kellogg.
Thankfully, a virus such as this has a few benefits. Under no other circumstances do my nasal secretions come in rainbow colors. And, I really like rainbows. I'd like to give a shout-out to the peeps who passed the law preventing me from buying enough pseudoephedrine, because without this ruling, I would foolishly have taken this medicine and never know what my nose was missing. I'd like to shout it out, but again, I can't talk due to the postnasal drip resulting from my lack of pseudoephedrine.
Also, I can sternly threaten my kids with the loss of privileges, including their college trust funds, if they do not behave. And, they will believe me right now, because I look and sound like Vincent Price. I have never felt more powerful. Except for the fact that I am too fragile to get out of bed.
Lastly, I now have an excuse to watch as much mindless TV and read as many low-brow magazines as I would like. In my weakened state, I do not dare brave "A Tale of Two Cities" or even "The Cat in the Hat." The mental stimulation could kill me.
As always, a link to somebody who legitimately knows something, if you are into that: Click here.
