Things You Need to See, Swimming Class and Opera, Whooping Cough and Power Lines

This makes me so satisfied it almost causes a heterosexual moment.

But, of course, please don't stop, because you are cute, and because that is the trademark club lyric.

My fantasy football team logo, which I stole from somewhere and doctored.

Today at swimming class, I almost got homicidal. There was a man there who insisted on singing opera, in the original Italian, while watching his children swim. He had a very good voice, and he sang quietly, and I adore opera, so I don't know what my problem was. I have analyzed this from a number of perspectives, truly. Whatever the case, the dude would not stop. His wife was there, too, and she seemed strangely unaffected. Perhaps she was used to it. She was hot. Way too hot for this nimrod.

It got to the point that I was relieved to hear the sound of a shrieking toddler because it drowned out this dude's opera. I even wished more children would scream! I wanted Ryan Gosling to bloody him up. Maybe I hated the attention-grabbiness of it. Maybe I just wasn't in the mood. I don't know what bothered me so much, but I was dreadfully upset. I gave him a death glare for ten minutes at least, but he was immune. Too absorbed in his little opera land. His children came out of the pool, and he kissed them both (one infant, one toddler) and raved over what good swimmers* they were. You'd think I would've been grateful for this little intermission because, of course, he couldn't talk and sing opera at the same time. Instead I was even further nauseated by his gross display. I wondered if Mary Poppins would come. I considered being mean to Ari when he came out of the pool just to balance things out. I didn't--calm down.

But! Dear world, Please do not sing opera at swimming class. Also, could you leave my pal, Ev, alone already? K, thanks.

Love, me.

Ev's car is under there somewhere.

Now, I shall tell the story of Ev. He and his toddler had RSV, and they went to the doctor where they were diagnosed (additionally!) with pertussis, and Ev's wife, who was away, also has both of these diseases at the same time. The CDC locked them all down, saying that because they'd all been vaccinated it was a "mild" case, which means they'll only cough for "two months." Also, Ev's wife is pregnant. They can't even go to the grocery store, but they couldn't anyway because, as it happens, a power-line and a tree fell on their car. Both! Is that really necessary? That's like the tree + power-line version of RSV + whooping cough! Oh, and of course--they have no power. I said to Ev, "Dude. You really need to repent and fast on Yom Kippur or something because god is pissed!" Not that I believe in god or anything, but you know like--just in case. 

Then I woke up the next morning, which was Rosh Hashanah, so Ari and I were home from school, and rushed out to Minute Clinic to get flu shots. They were out of the five-year-old dose, so I just got mine. I was so scared of diseases I almost cried. I said to the nurse, "Look, can't you just give him something? Some other shot?" I mean: Aren't they all the same? Do the viruses know the difference? They don't even have brains. And, yes, normally I know that's not how it works. But in this weak moment, I considered bribing the woman to give him whatever. Meanwhile, I got a TDAP (whooping cough) booster, even though I couldn't remember if I needed one.

I don't know whether it was the TDAP or the flu shot, but at about 9:00 pm I suddenly felt terrible. I was so uncomfortable I couldn't sleep or read or chat or anything. I stumbled to the bathroom to get some Tylenol for my entire aching body, and on the way back, I grabbed the thermometer. Luckily, it was a temple thingy because I was in no state to deal. My fever was only 100.3, which did not seem at all proportionate to the degree of agony I was feeling. I gotta say I was disappointed. I swallowed my Tylenol, and in 20 minutes I felt better enough to sleep, which I did, until the fever came back at 5:00 am, when I was too discombobulated to think of taking more drugs. I managed to doze until about 8:00, when I heard Ari leaving his room to go downstairs and watch cartoons on the iPad.

This is his new thing on weekends--and again school was closed for Rosh, so was weekendish. He gets his own breakfast (i.e. we put it out for him the night before) and lets us sleep until 9:00. It is wonderful.

I got up and managed to put some Tylenol in my pocket and crawl downstairs. It had been like 19 hours since the shots. Surely, this could not be! It could not be that I was almost dying, crawling around on the floor whispering "agua" with my shallow breaths, over some vaccines from 19 hours earlier. Perhaps I was dying of an actual disease! It is not so uncommon! 

Once I decided this I felt better. Well, not better, exactly--I still felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I mean, if I had an actual disease instead of just a reaction to a vaccine then I might still be dying, but at least I'm not a pansy.

The end.

*They could not--neither one of them--swim.