Plague Prevention

Yesterday was the occurrence of our Annual Family Bonding Ritual: “The Administration of the Flu Shot.” It is a day where I corral my unsuspecting children into the car immediately after school’s dismissal, and, once we are speeding down the highway at 50mph, I announce our destination. Then my three offspring glare at me, accuse me of sadism, and generally bond over their extreme abhorrence of me. It’s a lovely, sacred ritual.

After first sitting in the waiting room with other boisterous, anxious children, we were ushered by the nurse into a room. There my kids argued over whom would be first, and queried the nurse about her injection technique. Would it hurt? Really bad or just sort of bad? One by one they sat in the chair, and with a swish of an alcohol wipe and a quick jab, they were done in 30 seconds or less. Sit-swish-jab. Sit-swish-jab. I honestly don’t know what all the fuss was about. We paraded out of the office; my kids moaning, clutching their arms and acting like arthritis-ridden octogenarians as they got into the car. They complained all the way home of how tender their arms were, and how non-tender and horrible their mother was.

My nerves and patience were completely shot. I had fantasies about the dirty martini I was going to fix for myself upon arrival home, and the myriad ways I could show my children “Non-Tender and Horrible.” Perhaps I’d cook them liver and onions for dinner. With a side of spinach. And force them give me a foot rub, while listening to my Carpenters CD.

(Big sigh.) They completely misunderstand my motivations. I love them and do not want them to suffer from influenza. Last year, I was the only idiot in the family not to partake of the flu shot. And then I consequently caught the flu, and was under-the-weather for the better part of a month. I was sickly sick. Miserably ill. The experience wasn’t anything close to a 3-day respite where I lied around watching Reality TV and sipping soup. It was Hell. I could barely drag myself out of bed to use the john. I coughed and wheezed, sucking on my inhaler like a baby on a pacifier. The only blessing, if there was one, was the throaty Demi Moore voice I maintained for 6 weeks that Super Hubs found oddly sexy and alluring.

My family of five has each received the flu vaccine. And I’ve preemptively stocked up on zicam and germ-blaster. “The best offense is a good defense.” .....Or is it, “The best defense is a good offense”?..... Or, how about a flu adage? “She was white and shaken, like a dry martini.” Hmmm. Sounds like a suggestion. I’ll be back, two olives later.