lizzybennet | (no subject)

My motherly instinct did not steer me wrong this time. If I had sent Zack to school, he would have had his own traumatic childhood story to relate. He is sick, sick, sick. Sitting on the toilet, with his head in the trashcan...does it get anymore sick than that. He said "Mom, I think this is the end for me." I replied "What do you mean?"I'm hoping he means the end of his sickness. But, no. In true Dramatic Zack fashion, he means the end of his life. My poor boy. I had one of those awful "DON"T GIGGLE" mom moments. I forced myself to keep a straight face, and assured him that as horrible as barfing is, it is not the end for him. He will yet live to see tomorrow.

I will not be attending book club tonight :( I haven't had time to write my paper, and even if I had I wouldn't feel right leaving Zack.

Shucks. I'll just have to comfort myself with "Earl" and "The Office". Hmm. From discussing victorian gothic novels to watching mindless tv. bummer.

Threaded | Flat

Poor Zack! Hope he feels better!

Poor, poor, Zack. It's just awful to be in that position - literally. And he's just a young'un.

I remember being 9 or 10, and my mom and I both had the honest to goodness flu - only time I've ever really had that in my life. We had been ill for several days and were lying up in my mom's bed, feeling just hideous. I didn't mean to be funny, but I said, "Lord, I hear you calling. You can have me." My poor mom - lying there all achy and weak and fevered laughing like that.