Wednesday, April 18, 2007

The Snot Express Is Leaving The Station

How much snot can the human body POSSIBLY manufacture? I seem to have picked-up on a well known "teacher syndrome." They tell me that new teachers often get sick because they are exposed to the germ-riddled world of the common kid.

Well thank you for the warning.

There are 10,000 bees stinging my throat. The top of my head feels like Mt. St. Helen's. And, perhaps worst of all, I am leaking like a "High Ranking White House Source" in an off the record press conference.

Drip. Drip. SNEEZE. Drip. Drip. SNEEZE. Drip. Drip. Drip. SNEEZE. (Sometimes the sequence throws you off a bit.)

Sometime around 5:45 this morning I woke up with my wife climbing all over me. I admit it. My first thought was ... "SCORE!" Then I realized my cell phone was ringing. I had not noticed it because my ears had been ringing all night. She answered my phone to hear one of the local school districts ask if I would be available to substitute teach today. She looked at me. "Uhhhh ... I don't think so." She hung up. The next thing I remember it was after 9AM and I was alone in bed. My phone was not ringing anymore but my ears still were.

Bailey the Killer Beagle does not have any experience with my sneezing potential. This is the first truly bad cold I have had since she came to live in our home. (I bought her for thirty-five bucks out of a shopping cart. I want my money back.) She has seen Debbie and the kids sneeze. No big deal. They are minor league sneezers. Ladies and gentlemen, I am in the major's. When I am really sick I can put out fires and knock birds out of trees. One of my best sneezes would serve admirably as a tornado siren in our little suburb. Unfortunately, I cannot sneeze on command. But when I sneeze today Bailey runs for cover. She likes to cuddle up next to me on our infamous "date chair" (named such because our kids like to cuddle with their dates in our big fuzzy buddy.) She gets good and close. And then I sneeze. The first few times the poor dog nearly left her fur on the chair as she dove out of the way. By her bedtime she simply looked at me like I was a pile of C-4 explosives and ran off to her cage. She's a sissy.

I have never heard of anyone dying from the common cold. Tonight I may make history. All symptoms seem to be coming together for my demise. It is very possible that during the dark of night I will sneeze, cough, hack, and wheeze all at the same instant. I do not believe that this tired old body could take that. In the morning they will find me. CSI experts will be called in. They will check the room for prints, test me for Rigor mortis to determine time of death, and slice me open to do a thorough autopsy. No need. If you hear of my death please ask the coroner to simply read this blog. If he is worth his pay he will immediately realize that I expired by turning myself inside out expelling bodily fluids.

Please. Keep the casket closed. Cremate the remains. Scatter my ashes over any Colorado or Utah ski resort. Remember me the way I was before I blew up. Oh, and if possible ... toast my memory with a good hard nose blow into a fresh Kleenex.


Zookeeper said...

You have such a flair for the dramatic! However, it doesn't seem fair that this is your reward for working with the children last week, does it? I hope you are feeling better soon.