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like a foreign country
Sep. 14th, 2010 02:16 pmApparently the germs in my parents' house like me very much. Not content with jumping my parents, they lie patiently in wait over the months and as soon as I cross the threshold for longer than about six hours, they're all over me. They love me.
That is to say. This isn't the first time I've been miserably ill alone in my parents' house while my parents are off globetrotting (this time it's an Alaskan cruise) and I'm stuck sniveling in a recliner and watching/not-watching hours of police procedurals at a stretch (this, friends, is why I can never have cable) and hand-feeding their giant spindly brindled baby of a dog and wishing for my own bed even though it isn't actually as comfortable as my parents'. It sucks.
On the other hand, since my parents have a fenced yard, it's not necessary for me to take the dogs outside on leashes; this is the primary reason why I head over to my parents' house to dogsit while they're out of town, and it's a nice break -- especially nice when I barely feel like stirring from my prone position on the bed, much less hooking three active dogs to their leashes and staggering outside to watch them ignore the urge to pee in favor of chasing carpenter bees and falling debris from coniferous trees and the pernicious (OMG EVIL EEEEEVIL) UPS man while I get yanked in a feverish delirium all over the freaking yard.
So thanks for that, folks, thanks for the fenced yard and the rivetingly bad tv, thanks for the thawed leftovers sitting tidily in the fridge waiting for my consumption, but no thanks for incubating those viruses for me. Next time I'm heading in a day or two early and Lysoling the place from attic to basement.
That is to say. This isn't the first time I've been miserably ill alone in my parents' house while my parents are off globetrotting (this time it's an Alaskan cruise) and I'm stuck sniveling in a recliner and watching/not-watching hours of police procedurals at a stretch (this, friends, is why I can never have cable) and hand-feeding their giant spindly brindled baby of a dog and wishing for my own bed even though it isn't actually as comfortable as my parents'. It sucks.
On the other hand, since my parents have a fenced yard, it's not necessary for me to take the dogs outside on leashes; this is the primary reason why I head over to my parents' house to dogsit while they're out of town, and it's a nice break -- especially nice when I barely feel like stirring from my prone position on the bed, much less hooking three active dogs to their leashes and staggering outside to watch them ignore the urge to pee in favor of chasing carpenter bees and falling debris from coniferous trees and the pernicious (OMG EVIL EEEEEVIL) UPS man while I get yanked in a feverish delirium all over the freaking yard.
So thanks for that, folks, thanks for the fenced yard and the rivetingly bad tv, thanks for the thawed leftovers sitting tidily in the fridge waiting for my consumption, but no thanks for incubating those viruses for me. Next time I'm heading in a day or two early and Lysoling the place from attic to basement.
