I Need My Momma

It's that time of year when the weather starts changing, flowers start poking their heads out of the dirt to reveal beautiful colors, and people get sick. I am one of those people today. Giraffe got the flu a while back when it was going around, and I had something not as bad before that. I think that "not as bad something" is back with a vengeance.

Normally people have that one home remedy that claims to cure all ills, such as whiskey and lemon, honey, or a good batch of chicken soup. My family doesn't have anything like this. We're not even a big, affectionate type family. When I was younger, I was heavily into sports, which left me wide open for an injury. Before one of the games, the third basegirl and I were tossing the ball around to warm up. The coach came up to talk to me, but Third Basegirl didn't notice. So all of a sudden I hear my name called in a frantic manner, I turn, and wham! Softball to the forehead. It swelled up so big it looked like I had a golf ball under my skin for a couple of weeks. Normally when something like this happened, the mom of the injured player would come running onto the field all in a panic that their baby had been hurt. (See Bill Engvall's "T-Ball and Indian Guides" on his album, Dorkfish.) My mom, on the other hand, would glance up to make sure I was alright and when she assessed that I was, remained seated on the bleachers. My tangent is to demonstrate how when people get sick in my family, you don't get doted on, which is mostly the way I like it.

I do, however, like when my mom would peek into my room to ask if I "needed anything" and sometimes I would, such as another glass of Tang, bowl of soup, or popsicle. She didn't come in, pat my face, check my temperature every five seconds, and tuck me in so tight I couldn't breathe. This is apparently what growing up was like in my Giraffe's house. Yikes.

I wish I had a great soup recipe to share. Not to mention, something that would make me feel better than I am right now. I guess my version of chicken soup at home is something I think about when I get sick. Mom always had alphabet noodles on hand so I'd pour in a handful of those in some chicken bouillon and add some Paul Prudhomme poultry seasoning when it was done. There was also soda in the house at all times so I'd drink it to settle my stomach with my soup.

I guess overall my family has a hodge podge of things that help when I get sick but most of all, it's just the presence of loved ones nearby that does the trick. Luckily, I get Good Friday off and will be trekking home to settle some more of my grandfather's estate as well as gather up my mom's things from the house. Many pictures to follow because that place is a housewife's dream. Or anybody's dream, really. You'll see.