Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Questing, Never Resting.


The voice is tearful, and there is an ice-cold finger on my cheek.

It scares the living shit out of me.

Guys, this is why I hate air conditioners.  I can't hear the kids coming for me, and when I wake up to a person in my face, it gives me a heart attack.

"Mom?" Lilly sobs, "Can I have some medicine?  I am coughing free by free!" she says, as she holds up two fingers.

Okay.  I'm pulling myself together.  But I'm so confused.  Maybe it's the adrenalin surge, or that I was just dead asleep, or that it is dark in here, but none of this is making sense.

I know two things:

1) Lilly is pretty sick, and making horrible, phlegm-y, sick noises.
2) I am in a sci-fi / fantasy / thriller where my daughter is speaking in oracle-ese and I'm probably about to start an epic journey.

"Lilly, what?  What are you saying?"

"I can't stop coughing three by three!"  This time she holds up three fingers.

Right.  Well.  Moving along.  I get tissues, an allergy pill, an extra blanket (ice-cold finger, remember) and some ibuprofen.  Drink of water and back to bed.

She does have a bad cough.  And, even in the light of day, refers to herself as coughing three by three.

Which, of course.

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