I've been fighting a cold for the past few days and tonight it's at it's worst, I can hope tomorrow I will be on the up-side. I am coughing so much my stomach muscles are killing me. I hate being sick, I'm not one to lay around anymore....but a long time ago there were days that I enjoyed staying in bed, when I was a kid.
When I was a kid my Doctor made house calls. When he came, even though I knew I'd be getting a shot, I knew he'd make me better, so I hardly felt it. Besides, my Doctor was very handsome, at least I thought he was, so at eight years old I had my first crush on an older man, besides my Dad. When he came through my bedroom door, I just knew he was an angel.
My parents took great care of me. My Mom was always at my beckoned call. I'd be tucked in with lots of things to keep me busy when I felt good enough and tons of grape juice, nothing better than ice cold grape juice when you had a fever or sore throat. My Dad always stopped on his way home from work and picked up the current Little LuLu and Archie comics and coloring books, and my brother who was much older would bring over a few of those pictures on a reel that you would put into a viewer. Ah, the good old days.
Thank heavens for modern technology, I can work from home as I haven't stepped foot into my office for three days. So, instead of comics I've got my laptop, and I'm not tucked into bed right now, but I'm still well taken care of, my husband has that job now and I so appreciate it, but somehow it isn't like Mom and my handsome Doctor who both came to my rescue when I was a sick little girl.