Tis The Season

It's the most wonderful time of the year - except when you are sick or injured.
We interrupt this delightful Christmas season to bring you a list of our ills and spills.

It seems like the housewives and their families are under attack.

I would call and tell you all about it but I would need my voice back first.  You might catch every third word if your hearing is decent.  I'm also beginning to think breathing is overrated.  This weather has kicked my asthma into high gear.  Right now, I'm living on Hall's cough drops, steroids and inhalers with a side of Delsym cough syrup. 
Chin up, my friends, if you haven't had a Hall's cough drop in a while, the wrappers provide all sorts of inspiration with sayings like "power through it."  

Mrs. Sinclair had her knee drained and her gall bladder out in the last two weeks.  She hit a new low when she had to accept help walking into the doctor's office from an elderly gentleman who drove her to the door in a golf cart.  You just can't make this stuff up.

There is a lot of this going around.

Mrs. Albright's daughter was sick on her birthday yesterday.  Her birthday party has already been rescheduled twice.

Consoled by her birthday gift - a Nintendo 3DS!

Her PJ days are coming to an end today as she returns to school. Finally!

Mrs. Hart fell down.  Between her knee and shoulder, she's feeling it still.  That's okay, the doctor got to take a peek today when she went in with a congested head.  In a yelling match, I don't know if she or I would get a word out right now.

In addition to having problems with allergies, Mrs. Montgomery's son came home with some skin missing after a PE incident.

Guess I should have warned you because that was just plain nasty.  
This same child gets to go to an elbow specialist tomorrow for a previous injury.

I would like to not here that Mrs. Montgomery tried to turn the conversation over to dog poop at this point, but I did not take the bait.

Now you have seen the truth behind the scenes.  We are Christmas-ing along like the rest of you and doing our best to not let our decrepit bodies and exhausted children get us down.

Please excuse our whining and this short interruption from the merriment.

Now, let there be JOY!

You're feeling it, aren't you?

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Mrs. Priss

**cough cough** wheeze wheeze** like...

(That was my version of "Merry Christmas to You!")

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