A while ago now, Child Unit 2 was hit by a rather nasty bug and we had a few restless nights here while he recovered. Nothing serious, of course, but it is difficult to sleep when one of the shorter members of the household is waking up every half hour, covered in assorted bodily excretions.
When the devilish bug first reared it’s ugly head, Host Body found himself all a-flutter and in the wee small hours, began scribbling something in his drafts folder. I’ve unearthed it, polished it up and present it to you now.
Ladies and gentleman, I give you “The Sick Note” (or “Ramblings Of A Sleep-Deprived Assclown”)
As i’m writing this, Child Unit 2 is feeling rather under the weather. I’m sure he’s probably fine but Host Body is doing what any responsible, loving parent would do, freaking the hell out over things and generally making an arse of himself.
Marital Unit is currently tucked up in bed, the little lad asleep next to her, being as always the level-headed, sensible type that she is. She has given Host Body one simple task, email her college tutor to explain that she won’t be in today on Tuesday as she’ll be taking Child Unit 2 to the doctor.
Even he couldn’t screw that up, drafting a simple mail as follows:
Really sorry, but Marital Unit won’t make it in on Tuesday. She’s taking our son to the doctor because he’s poorly as all shit. Hope that’s ok?
Hugs and kisses
Well, something like that. Anyway, gets the point across doesn’t it?
But it’s hardly elegant. So i’ve taking the liberty of sending this instead…
Dear madam, I must ask of you a moment of your time
To read this simple message, laid out for you in rhyme,
Which will, I trust, serve as explanation plain and clear
to explain to you exactly why instead of there, i’m here.
By here, of course, I mean at home. Which is where I was last night
sat at my computer, with many an essay still to write
But as I toiled o’er textbooks and Wikipages by the ton
I heard a fitful stirring from my supposedly sleeping son.
I glanced up from my studies, my heart did miss a beat.
And then, a sound most chilling. Teeny tiny feet!
The boy awoke! And so, pausing only to close my book
I rose up from the sofa and readied a stern parental look
I’ve been here before and expected some excuse
as to why he could not sleep. Perhaps a glass of juice?
Or maybe another monster, lurking ‘neath the bed
Some terror in the dark, which filled him with such dread
That sleep was not an option. For he must stand guard!
Lest the demons in the closet steel his favourite Pokemon cards.
Or some horror from the sock drawer which, with a single glance
could cause a frightful soiling of his tiny underpants.
T’was something of this ilk which I expected from the lad
but the reality was different and oh so very sad.
For his little face was flushed a most unpleasant shade of red
As he shuffled towards me, sobbing, clutching his wee head
To my eye, there came a tear, at this wretched sight
So saddened was I by my wee boys dreadful plight
And so it was that I tucked him up, besides me in my bed
That I might watch over him as to the land of nod he sped
A restless night we spent, the wee one tossed and turned
One minute frozen to the bone, the next his for’ead burned
I snatched a few brief minutes sleep, as he rested still
But who could truly rest, with their beloved child ill
And so it is with great regret, that I must write to say
I will not be attending my scheduled lectures on this day
But I hope to return soon, to my studies and my friends
And shall, with renewed vigour, strive to make amends
Marital Unit of Host Body
I reckon that’ll cover it.