I Ain't A-Woofin'

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is sick as a dog. Or not as healthy as a dog. Something doggish. My dogs seem to feel fine, what with laying about the porch, pouncing on refrigerator scraps, snuffling up the broken Easter eggs #2 son and I finally threw out today (dare to behold the horror that is Hillbilly Mom's refrigerator), and sniffing each other's a$$es. I, on the other hand, have no urge to sniff an a$$. I am listless. My head is pounding. Methinks it's a sinus problem. I was up from midnight to 4:20 a.m. trying not to drown in my own snot. I set up camp in the La-Z-Boy or Big-Fat-Man or Hugh-Mon-Gus recliner. It was OK, except for waking up every 45 minutes with a plugged blowhole.

The headache set in this morning around 5:30. It lingered. My eyes cried to stay closed. They were denied. I had to drive my #1 son to summer school. For one day only. So he could go to the park. More on that later. Let's get back to ME ME ME! After dropping off the lad, #2 son and I forged an expedition to The Devil's Playground. Where we chose our 1749th cart that wouldn't steer. Those things have serious alignment problems. You don't take your autos there for service, do you? The boy chose one of each kind of junk food to take as snacks on our upcoming trip to Arkansas. Because apparently, they don't sell food between here and there. I also got each boy a new pair of Wal-Mart fall-apart shoes, plenty of soda to assure a stop every 30 minutes, and some sandwich and breakfast stuff to stay out of the fast-food bandits for two meals a day.

Upon arriving home, the young 'un dashed downstairs to his computer, from where I faintly heard that 'severed head on a pike' crap again. I didn't care. I wanted my severed head on a pike. Maybe that pike would let some of the pain leak out. I clumb (HH's word) back in Big Blue, the recliner, for some relaxation. I used Little Bear as a pawn to block demon daylight from my aching orbs. I twisted and turned for about an hour, with no relief. Then #1 called me to ask if he could leave on his shoes to wade in the water because they had to 'safely float the baby across the river'. I said no. He countered with an offer to take off his socks and only wear the shoes. Again, I said no. He argued that I'd already bought him new shoes. I stood firm. Apparently, he did, too. I later learned that he only wore his SOCKS in the water. What a PITIOT! That boy takes after his father.

I had to go back to school to pick him up, and from there we proceeded to Great Clips for boys' haircuts, because I had a $5 coupon for May. This was the last day of May, you know. I remembered, because it's also my mom's birthday. Don't you worry about Hillbilly Mom's mom...she got a carrot cake and some jewelry and two cards and the promise of lunch out when we get back from vacation. Oh, and her cronies took her to breakfast this morning, too. I suppose you really rake it in for your 73rd birthday. It was a 45 minute wait on the cutting, so we went two doors down, past The Smoke Shop, to Little Caesar's for some nourishment. Except for me. Whew! Long time no talk about ME. I made #1 go in an pick me up some Hot & Sour soup on the way home. Last time I was sick, it cut the illness in half. We'll see. Long story not short enough, we got home after 5:00.

And now that the vat of soup has been slurped, I must report that my headache is not so severe. I might as well have been drinking battery acid, for all I could taste. But right now, the pain is less. #2 son and I are going to watch Pirate Master on CBS at 7:00. It's from the Survivor. There's nothing I like better than a cheesy reality show. And nothing #1 likes better than Pirates.

Hear that, Diva. PIRATES! Arrrrgh...