kariskhaos


To The Dungeon
February 21, 2012, 10:52 pm
Filed under: books, death, humor, love, Parenting, Teenagers | Tags: , , , ,


Teenagers who are sick, are the worst of all patients. They take their normal pumped up attitude, add whining, moaning, and total pathetic-ness, to create a product that is less than human. I consider myself a compassionate person. I am a good mom, who wants the best for my children. If my kids are miserable, I am too. I hate not being able to do anything for them while they are in pain. I have spent hours on the floor in various bathrooms all over the house holding one of my babies as they wretched, or sleeping next to them if they had a fever and did not feel safe if I was not there. I will make soup, find the straw for the ginger ale and read books till my voice is hoarse.

When my teenagers are sick I really just want to lock them in a dungeon. I know that this is not reasonable. I know that I should find some reserves of compassion. I know that this does not get me nominated for Mother of the Year. I know that, and I am okay with it. In the best of circumstances teenage boys can be trying. When you add symptoms that make them feel less than invincible there is going to be trouble.

Now here is my only disclaimer. I am talking about the sickness where you feel lousy, you may throw up, but not continually, you may have diarrhea or some other inconvenient bowel problems, you ache and are tired. You are not going to die, you do not need to go to the hospital, you just feel like crap and are not sure why. The basic flu, cold, pesky bug sickness that everyone gets at least once a year.

Isaac is this kind of sick. He stayed home from school today. I check on him and he groans. Can I do anything for you? More moaning, non-committal sighs and a maybe some water. I bring the water and he wants a straw, then he wants to know why he is tired after he has slept for twelve hours. I get to the door and he asks me to bring the water closer to where he is. I leave to his snicker.

Later in the day he has managed to eat, but his head hurts and he has homework but he can’t focus and this six-foot two sixteen year old turns into a creature from the abyss. He acts like the world is going to end, still has enough sarcasm in him to slay anyone in the family that might take away the attention, and manages to look and smell pathetic at the same time. Whatever compassion I might have left is quickly evaporated as he manages to step on the last nerve I had left as he asks if he can have some frosting out of the jar in the refrigerator.

I wonder how much it would cost to build a dungeon…

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