So the good news is I am not sick with the flu, I simply have a horrible aversion to vitamins. Vitamin B complex to be specific. Oh, and my iron pills.
The bad news is it took me all week of being sick to discover this.
However, the good news is I learned something today. I love love love the taste of water. I love the cool refreshing feeling on a parched tongue. Especially ice water on a very hot day. But only on hot days. No ice in the winter or a cold restaurant for me, thank you. If I am already cold externally, I do not choose to freeze my innards as well.
I was brushing my teeth tonight and as I rinsed my mouth, I visited heaven. It was a quick visit which reminded me of hiking in cool bubbling mountain streams and playing under waterfalls. I am not saying that to be poetic, that is really what it reminded me of. I was as surprised as any at my thought process. As I pondered my inexplicable delight over something as simple as the singular feel of cool water on my tongue I abruptly came crashing down from my brief heavenly vacation. I remembered it. The only water that can cause nightmares. My hometown's sorry excuse for H2O. It was good when I was a child, I think. Who knows. Childhood memories are generally rose colored. Having since tasted fresh mountain water I now would rather go without any beverage when we visit our parents rather than defile my temple with the night terror inducing water. We have the option of water or milk. I have never liked milk. But water? I choose to be dehydrated over drinking that disease filled fluoridated skunk's bath. Bless it's heart.
I had a friend who once told me that it is okay to call anyone any name you want so long as you end in "Bless their heart" becuase the "bless their heart" shows that despite all their faults you really care for them or about them or something along those lines. But really, I don't care for the water from my hometown, so scratch that heart blessing.
I guess I am picky that way. But not Keith! I learned something today. Boys are boys. It doesn't matter their age, they will always be boys.
Keith is training me for teenagers. All day today he would say
"Mommy, I'm hungry. Food."
He would say this with his fist clenching the box of raisins and his mouth full of apple while guarding the box of crackers. He would pull me into the kitchen and stand in front of the refrigerator while gazing longingly at me. His eyes said
"Mother dearest, can you not see I shall perish if I don't have something to fill this empty void in my stomach immediately? The hunger is unbearable! Why do you withhold the very thing that will give me life?"
He would watch me imploringly while the evidence on his face told a different story from the starving child ploy he was peddling. I stood there perplexed. What more could I give him? He didn't pause in his food consumption all day! I narrowly saved my refrigerator from entering his bottomles pit. I am not talking about the food in my refrigerator, that was gone by noon. I mean the actual refrigerator, metal and all. He ate more food than I eat in a week. And it was only three in the afternoon. *Sigh* Like father like son.
Bless his heart.