This week a universal truth struck me between the eyes: It's a lot easier to take a sick day from the day job, than to take it from the kids.
When my doctor proclaimed that I have a contagious viral infection, I informed my boss that I would have to take a few sick days from work. Like the nice guy he is, he told me to relax and get better.
That was the easy part.
Unfortunately, I picked Spring Break to get sick. Thus, my kids are home from school all week, bored, loud, and unable to stay out of my room and let me rest.
Fortunately, my kids are not babies any more and so they should be able to amuse themselves and make their own lunches. They are 13, 17, 24, and 26. Okay, they are managing to make their own food. But amuse themselves?
Despite my assertions to the contrary, they think my illness is an invitation to plop on my bed, watch my TV, and worse, argue while bouncing on my bed.
So, until the husband comes home to back up my non-existent voice, I have to become creative. I've sent them down the road to the store, to Wendy's to get Frosties, set them up with projects, and of course, delegate chores to the 24 and 17 year olds.
Reverse psychology works, too. If I ask them to fetch too many things, they will avoid me on their own.
Oh, the joys of raising kids. You have to love them, but you have stay ahead of them, even when you're not up to par.
