Christmas Right On Time
A good thing is that Birthdays and Christmases, three days apart in my own case, inevitably come to pass even without one's permission, otherwise I would have postponed mine, no question about it. No, I figured, it wasn't exactly a great thing to pose for posterity and later on look back at pictures which have you smiling but actually supressing a wince that internalizes the misery of a swollen, probably to the point of perforation larynx, due to heavy bouts of cruel, super-oppressive, unbridled coughing, brought about by asthma. If things were all about plumbing, I'm all about drainage gone awry or a toilet that won't flush, with my tools being these various inhalers, a trusty nebulizer, and a portable oxygen on stand by -- all these seemingly not up for the job.
I was looking to Mom for some sort of assurance and encouragement, being on Week 2 of my wretched condition when we sat down for a Pancakes and Waffles Breakfast on my birthday. Instead, she told me that hopefully, the asthma would have let up by beginning of February, when the cool Siberian winds blowing in from China would have totally dissipated, with the stream of allergens that go along with it losing steam by then. "Yeah right", I managed in my own missing voice ( in between difficult bites of my normally easy Banana Pancake ), or this death voice that I happen to be sporting around lately. Sure, I mean, who am I to question her authority, when I seem to have inherited this unfortunate asthma predilection from her.
Having said all of that, I would still hate to be perceived as following along the footsteps of my hypochondriac sister, the one who swears to suffer all sorts of afflicting ailment everyday, although she was the one who chucklingly pointed out the scary possibility to me. I mean, hell no, like a big, fat, Whitney Houston style Hell To The No! I just thought that this makes up for a different Christmas story, but having the same ending anyway, with me sending out my Cheers for the Holiday's Best, to all you out there. I, after all, have been singing to Alvin, Simon and Theodore's ( The Chipmunks ) 'Christmas Don't Be Late' all month long now. Sure enough, it came on time.
Filed Under: Seasons
I was looking to Mom for some sort of assurance and encouragement, being on Week 2 of my wretched condition when we sat down for a Pancakes and Waffles Breakfast on my birthday. Instead, she told me that hopefully, the asthma would have let up by beginning of February, when the cool Siberian winds blowing in from China would have totally dissipated, with the stream of allergens that go along with it losing steam by then. "Yeah right", I managed in my own missing voice ( in between difficult bites of my normally easy Banana Pancake ), or this death voice that I happen to be sporting around lately. Sure, I mean, who am I to question her authority, when I seem to have inherited this unfortunate asthma predilection from her.
Having said all of that, I would still hate to be perceived as following along the footsteps of my hypochondriac sister, the one who swears to suffer all sorts of afflicting ailment everyday, although she was the one who chucklingly pointed out the scary possibility to me. I mean, hell no, like a big, fat, Whitney Houston style Hell To The No! I just thought that this makes up for a different Christmas story, but having the same ending anyway, with me sending out my Cheers for the Holiday's Best, to all you out there. I, after all, have been singing to Alvin, Simon and Theodore's ( The Chipmunks ) 'Christmas Don't Be Late' all month long now. Sure enough, it came on time.
Filed Under: Seasons
Tags: Christmas, The Chipmunks
Poppycock | 12/25/2005 |
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