The Didgeridoo Flu...

I think I mentioned the fact Didgeridoo Boy was sick all day on Christmas. Tucked in bed with his head under a pillow, a vat of KoolAid and bottle of aspirin on the bedside table, he stayed cooped in the bedroom while I went to my parents' house for dinner and presents. I know, I'm such a heartless wench of a wife, right, to leave my sick and bedridden husband all alone on Christmas with no one to nurse him? Well, consider this conversation:

GKG: "We need to leave soon. Are you going to get up or do you need to stay here?"

Didge: "Pphhug. Uhmeel ike git."

GKG: "Do you need anything?"

Didge: "OWER! PHARK!"

I came back in an hour.

GKG: "Alright, I'm ready and I have all the gifts in the car. Are you able to go?"

Didge: "PHARK! UHMEEL IKE GIT! EEEV ME UH BONE!"

GKG: "Well. Alright, jackass, there's no need to cuss me out."

Didge: "Foo mins. Gim mee min."

GKG: "I'll be back in thirty minutes."

Didge: "Oo."

I went downstairs, called the 'rents, told them Didge was sick and in bed with a fever.

GKG: "Hey. I'm going. You need to stay in bed."

Didge: "PHARK OOOOO! PHARK! UHMEEL...... PHARK! Huh?"

GKG: "I'm going without you. Everyone said to tell you to feel better soon."

Didge: "Meemee?"

GKG: "Yes. I need to go so I can help with dinner."

Didge: "Mm. Eev phark wone."

GKG: "I'm out."

Didge: "I love you, Sweetie!"

(Yes! An instant of plain talk!)

GKG: "I love you, too, Grouch."


And off I went. I considered doing so self, and sanity, preservation. Besides, I wanted my presents. Sometimes it's best to leave the man alone, and leave. (And get your presents.)