I Feel Fine

No, really. I feel fine. 

I don't know what's going on with me. Maybe it's a bug I picked up somewhere. I've been drinking enough ginger ale to cause my kidneys to hurt. I may have been coming down with something for a few days because, at first, I had sharp pains in my right side. The next day, I was feeling pain in my left side. That finally passed and then the icky feeling started. You know, nausea, lethargy, and being unable to get comfortable. I'd go to bed and sleep for a while, then I'd get up and sit around for a while. Back and forth, back and forth. 

My tongue is coated in white. My mother says that's a sign of an upset stomach. She may be right. I think I have a temperature, too, but nobody agrees with me. Colt said I should take my temperature with the new thermometer Don bought, but I'd rather have a cool hand resting on my forehead and a loving touch, with somebody telling me, "Poor baby. You'll be okay." See, all I really want is a little sympathy and affection. It doesn't look like I'm going to get it around here. Don and the boys aren't very nurturing.

This morning I got up at 6:30 to make sure Scout was up. Don had let Buddy in the house last night and he had been in the washroom. Scout told me Buddy had crapped in the washroom again. The first time or two I gave him the benefit of the doubt because he's not used to staying in the house. After cleaning up after him way too many times I've become disillusioned. I used a huge pile of paper towels and then washed the floor with bleach water. Buddy can sleep outside from now on.

I told Don not to let Buddy come back inside at night any more because we have to keep him in the washroom so he won't get sick going in and out of a hot house. Typical Donny said, "I didn't let him in the house last night." 

Scout and I looked at each other because we both knew that Don had let Buddy back in last night. I started griping and telling Donny, "Oh yes, you did! That's why we left him inside." 

I cannot take it. For one thing, it's like picking up a giant steamy brown pudding, only it doesn't smell that way! Oy! Waking up the first thing in the morning and cleaning up a mess is not a good way to start the day, especially for me. It sets the whole day. Thankfully, Scout threw Buddy on the porch and we left him outside all day.

I can't stand pets in the house. I've never liked that. Well, one time I had a pet flying squirrel but he drowned in the toilet, so that's about the extent of it. The kids had pet birds one time but they were messy and I didn't like cleaning up after them. Another reason I don't like pet birds is because I feel it's a sin to keep a bird in a cage. Anything that was made to fly shouldn't be locked up. 

God forbid anybody has snakes or lizards for pets. What is it with people who want exotic species as pets? That's just as bad, and disgusting, as puppy mills that crank out pups until the dams die from exhaustion and neglect. 

Snakes and iguanas are being released in the everglades and depleting the wildlife that is indigenous to the area. We should have stricter laws that ban the ownership of exotic animals that do not belong on this continent.

I guess I must be feeling better because I'm griping again. That's always a good sign, I think.

I hope I start feeling better because I don't get enough done in the day, anyway. This is really slowing me down.

***

Well, I was wrong about that. I wrote this little diatribe a couple of days ago and didn't feel well enough to post it. I figured I wasn't going to come up with anything better for a while so take it as it is. 

AS ALWAYS

PIO