Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

take two aspirin and call me in the morning

My mother always cautioned me to wear clean underwear just in case of an accident.  I never totally understood that argument.  Shouldn’t we just wear clean underwear because it’s clean and for no other reason?  She never said wear nice underwear just in case of an accident.  The only criteria was that it had to be clean.  Now, just for the record, my underwear is always clean (although frequently inside out) but I won’t say that I always wear the nicest pair.  Depending on the day (and the laundry schedule) I’ve been known to wear relatively unattractive underwear on occasion.  I know it’s hard to believe that my underwear isn’t black lace trimmed in hot pink fur, but we can’t be sexy everyday can we?  

The truth is, I’ve never been overly concerned about accidents and underwear because, I know for a fact that you can absolutely fall hard enough, or in the right way, to tear your underwear.  I have done it! So with that in mind, I figured if I was ever in an accident, I would just blame the condition of my underwear on the impact.  Problem solved, right?

Wrong.

Mom never warned me to wear nice underwear just in case I have to go to the doctor unexpectedly.  That would have been valuable information!  I could have used that advice this morning when I got dressed. 

I looked perfectly professional on the outside, but under my clothes I was hiding a solid week’s worth of leg stubble, and my emergency underwear.  The ones I only wear when I have no clean laundry (or in today’s case, when I don’t feel well and I want to be really, really comfortable.)  They look sort of like I stole them from someone’s grandmother at a retirement home panty raid or something.  I didn’t.  They’re mine.  They just aren’t meant for show.  I have other underwear for that.  I need to start keeping an extra pair, a pretty pair, in my purse for emergencies.  My emergency underwear is not meant for THAT kind of emergency.

I left work just before ten to go to the doctor.  I didn’t have time to go home and change or shave my legs.  I don’t know why it mattered.  I’m sure my doctor has seen worse things than baggy underwear and hairy legs, right?  Sure he has!  Still…it made me think of my mother’s warning about the clean underwear.  I think I will definitely expand upon that warning for my daughters!

The doctor kept mum about my unflattering underwear, but he did tell me that his office does laser hair removal for my legs if I would be interested.  It’s only $150 per session.  Yeah, I might think about that…later.  For today, I was too concerned with the fact that I was sick. 

According to the doctor, I will live.

I didn’t even know that a cold could move into your joints!  I don’t recommend getting that.  It’s not nice at all.  But on the upside (and honestly, I believe everything has an upside) I have to stay home from work for the next few days, and I wasn’t able to go to book club!

Dodged a bullet there!  I bought the book but didn’t actually read it.  I wanted to read it.  I had every intention of reading it.  I just never got around to it.  I will read it.  One day very soon!  Just not today.

So this evening, instead of feeling the pressure to read something I may not have read otherwise, I’ve been puppy sitting the grandpuppy while my son is at work. 

I suddenly have a new appreciation for the geriatric Labradors! The puppy who is appropriately named Rowdy, has been exactly that all evening. Rowdy!  I can’t chase him because my joints hurt too much to move around but I can’t let him run off because he has decided that it would be great fun to chase Henry Chow (ninja kitty) around the living room, and because I promised my son that I wouldn’t let him get hurt, I can’t let him catch the cat. 

So I tried to hold him, but he squirms too much.  I tried to roll a ball with him, but he gets distracted too easily.  He runs around the room stopping at a pair of shoes to take a quick nibble before running off to see what’s hiding in the fireplace, and then he decides to investigate the dust bunnies under the sofa.  It’s like he has doggy ADHD!  And I was complaining about insignificant things like incontinence and dementia in the old dogs.  At least I don’t have to follow them around pulling pieces of fluff and electrical cords out of their mouths. Maybe I should have just let him catch Henry Chow. 

He finally fell asleep at my feet.  Henry Chow fell asleep on my chest.  And I may just fall asleep on the couch.  Sometimes it’s nice to be sick!

Until the next time…I’ll be getting lots and lots of bed rest!

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