Sitting With The Sick

A disclaimer to this blog. It does contain one swear word in a conversation between this mother and her son. Before you get all judgmental, let me explain. We are a family that laughs.....at ourselves and each other. Sometimes, to make the conversation absolutely hilarious, we will take on a different accent and different character. This is what occurred. Having said that..........on with the story!!

Yesterday, Sunday....5 days post op. My daughters drove from their apartment in downtown Houston the 30 treacherous minutes out to our home in the suburbs to "visit the sick" (referring to me). My daughters are fantastic people; busy, young college students with lives of their own. How sweet they would tackle the old southern tradition of "sitting with the sick" on Sunday afternoon.

Right!! What the real deal was......we, as a family.....are addicted to HBO's True Blood and it comes on every Sunday night @ 8pm (No, I did not get paid for that plug). One of the sisters had taken her share of the cable bill money and had a fine time with a friend in Disney World....so....their cable was off. That was only part of their reason for visiting. The other part was they were hungry and they know I will always feed them when they are home.

So secure in their knowledge that momma would feed them and we would watch our program together, they do what all good Sunday afternoon visitors do.....took a 3 hour nap!

Well, after the sleeping beauties awakened, my 17 year old son was downstairs giving them a hard time. He asks, in a gruff tough voice "what are ya'll doing here? You HAVE an apartment1"

The sweetie sisters answered in their most precious voices "We came to see how momma was."

My son's reply, in a voice that would strike terror in any faint heart "It ain't like she's sick or anything. She just had surgery, that's all."

At that point, I butted into the conversation. Now, let me set the stage. I am a girl, born and bred in the deep south of Alabama who was transplanted to Texas 4 years ago. My accent is as much a part of who I am as the red hair my stylist touches up every 4 weeks at the salon..........only I was born and will most likely die with the accent.

So, butting into the conversation, with my interpretation of a New Jersey housewife accent, I say "I am too sick......I have a disease 70% (don't know the actual statistic, this just seemed good off the top of my head) of Americans suffer with. It's called Obesity,... you bastard!"

The girls, my son, and myself just fell apart after that with laughter! Oh my word, it was the funniest thing. He didn't have another word to say and neither did they. We laughed for a solid 5 minutes. And they laughed even more, because with all that belly busting laughter, I moved a few more gas bubbles and accentuated the laughter with burps and "poots".

Laughter is the best thing we can do for ourselves and those we love. Laughter is as good for the body as "GasX", and a whole lot more fun.

So, "Send in the Clowns" cause "what don't kill me only make me stronger"!!!!

Good grief, with that motto, I should be a beast............soon to be in a much smaller package......with ridiculous high heels!!!!!!!