It’s not so bad really, being sick on your break. You can just sit and no one bothers you….except maybe to ask you to clean out the hall closet if you just so happen to get a spurt. A spurt of what…I wonder.
You also finish the books that have been stacking up on the floor beside your bed because there’s no more room for them on the night stand.
You get to spend all day in your pajamas with your favorite hoodie zipped up over them.
You get served meals in bed that you had nothing to do with preparing.
You read blogs you haven’t had the time to give the attention to they deserve and you also take the time to write short but thoughtful comments.
You write more blogs in a day than you usually do in a month.
You open and read the links on Facebook your friends post and you learn something you didn’t know, get a little smarter and laugh till you have to stop and take a breath.
You actually read the Sunday Times cover to cover. You do the crossword puzzle…well, you have the time to do it anyway.
And when you start to feel a little better, you read your own local paper as you sit across the table from the one you love while eating breakfast at noon and plan an afternoon outing together.
“How about we go feed our leftover loaf of bread to the ducks this afternoon?!” I suggest. “I think the fresh air could do me some good!”
“There are no ducks.” (Clearly he’s not enthusiastic about this.)
“What do you mean? They’re all over the lakefront and they’re hungry.”
“Well, if they are there, they’re not hungry.”
“Of course they are. Don’t you remember that song….? Um….All around the cathedral, the saints and apostles.….hang on, it’s coming to me. I continue to hum until the words come….you know they are crying, each time someone shows that he ca- hares.” I keep singing but I can see that I’m losing him. I give it my all, “Feed the ducks! That’s what she cries, while overhead the ducks fill the skies! See? Like that.
Shhhh….listen….you can hear the ducks crying….Hurry up. Get your coat.” Silence. “Hey, look at this article on all these new restaurants. Yum. Let’s go to all of them this year.”
“Save the page.”
“Hmm….beef cheeks. What are beef cheeks? Served with beef tongue and a poached egg on top. Oh my, I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, the restaurant looks cute, let’s go. Here’s another restaurant that serves veal cheeks. What’s with the cheeks? I’ve never heard of that before. You’d think I would have with farming in my blood.”
“You know.” Todd says acting all smart, “Like the butt.”
“Riiiiiight. We used to have pork butt on Sundays…..I never thought of it like that before. What’s for dinner, Mom? (We’d ask after church on Sundays.) I‘m making a pork butt, she’d say.
“Sure, butt roast.”
“…..Fillet of butt.”
I know I can top him….”Butt chops!” We laugh through the rest of breakfast.
“Ready to go feed the ducks?”
“There are no ducks.”
“Yes, there are.”
And that my friends, is a picture of marriage. Well, mine anyway…