It’s like this…the hubster and I have been fighting off garden variety colds. No big deal but it’s been a minute since we’ve battled the regular sniffles, given all of the Covid concerns over the past two years or so. Out-of-the-blue, post-Thanksgiving head colds caught us off guard. How do we attack this common, yet still pesky ailment?
I needed to think, think, think. Given my congested noggin, it took far longer than it should have to recall the importance of Cold-Eeze zinc lozenges and the power of Emer-Gen-C packets to arm the resistance. I fancied the effort something akin to a scene from Les Miserables, urging our bodies to fight the good fight.
Sure, I’m making light of illness and I shouldn’t. Given hubby’s pre-existing conditions and my asthma, a cold can morph into something much worse. So, we rallied and tried to take it easy for a couple of days. I believe we did our part to shore up fourth quarter earnings for Kimberly-Clark. So many Kleenex…full waste cans throughout the house…all full-to-the-brim with white, crumpled clouds.
By Saturday we were feeling pretty swell. I asked the hubs, “Do you think we should cancel the repair guys – you know for the tv’s we’ve been waiting to fix as a result of the great lightning bolt disaster in July?” (Yes – we’re lucky the house didn’t ignite, but the damage to three tv’s and blown out cable boxes has been a PROJECT. We’ve been on a wait list for-EV-er and it was finally our turn!)
Hubs, after clearing and hacking to find his voice, said “Nah, we don’t – cough, cough – need to – cough, cough – cancel.” I gave him a look. You know the one. Over the glasses, real serious-like. “Mmmm.hmmmm…you’re being ridiculous…you ARE sick…you sound sick!” His reply? Tongue firmly planted in cheek, he said, “Oh yeah?! Choke, cough, sneeze, “Well you LOOK sick!”.
Well now, with that was an ‘en garde’ moment in our house. We lost our minds to intense silliness. Nope, not preparing to duel…we were armed only with giggles. Nothing’s worse than a laughing fit when you’re coughing and congested. Gasping and, to be honest, snorting a little, we concluded that neither of us should be around other humans. Him for contagion reasons. Me? Because of potential fright reactions, given my two-day old bedhead.
But we became more stupid/silly. I suspect you’re wondering…if you’ve managed to read this far…what’s up with the “Merry, Hoppy Xmas” reference in the title of this post. It’s coming, but you needed the set-up, honest you did.
In a random tidy-up of the pantry Saturday morning, I was charmed and amazed to find Easter candy! Hubby’s favorite malted-milk eggs and a fully intact…factory-sealed…Godiva bunny. Huh, I thought. What’s the shelf life on candy, anyhow? Given our colds and self-imposed quarantine, we hadn’t been to a grocery store for a few days. We’d been ‘eating off the land’ (which is what I call fridge and freezer meals…rifling through containers of frozen soup, stew, pasta sauce – you know, the leftovers we pack away that generally go uneaten). Not last week. We noshed through all of it, including the remnants of Thanksgiving pies and cookies.
See where I’m going? The Easter candy…given the scarcity of sweets….it looked pretty good to my sugar-deprived soul. So, I arranged the bunny, the little eggs, and some jellybeans, somewhat artfully (she said, patting herself on the back) on the kitchen island. Normally it’s where we keep the fresh fruit bowl, but I already shared: Grocery shopping needed to be done. No bananas or apples in the house…but we had Easter candy! See evidence in the silly graphic below:
Just as hubs and I recovered from Round #1 of our stupid laughing fit, he turned around and spied the display of Easter candy and just pointed. He couldn’t speak. I suppose the poinsettia and Santa decorations – also in his sight line – didn’t help. I know the hubster and his funny bone was tickled anew as we lost our minds all over again. If our germs didn’t freak out the friendly repair folks, the display in the kitchen surely would’ve…you know…all Merry, Hoppy freak-show and all. No one needed to see that tableau…not even us.
I know it’s not nearly as funny in the retelling as it was in real-time. I promise. It was. Funny. No kindly fix-it friends belonged in our house. Not that day. If not because of the cold germs, then because of the questionable (and risky?) choices in “holiday” candy.
Whether you celebrate these holidays or not, join me in laughing at how funny our own special forms of stupid can be. Merry, Hoppy, Christmas, indeed. And if anyone has tips or intel about the shelf-life of Easter candy, let me know. (For the record, the Godiva bunny still has both ears……no nibbling…yet…but the malted-milk eggs and jellybeans are going fast.)
Here’s to your good health...with a suggestion to laugh when you’re able…even (or especially) at yourself!
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