For the first time in quite a few years, the devil bug has struck.
Published 9:45 am Thursday, September 11, 2003
You mothers know the one I am talking about, the one that comes home with the children. They are sick with it a couple of days, stay at home and whine a lot.
The same could be said for their daddies, who will catch the devil bug about the time the children get better and go back to school or daycare.
Then for a couple of days, Daddy is at death's door and stays at home, whining a lot.
When he gets better, it hits Mom.
It starts with a little buzz in the head, then the tummy starts to feel like it just isn't interested in eating what you fixed for supper.
It progresses in rapid degrees until your body can't decide if it is washing or spinning out to dry.
The fever plays team tag with chills, and nothing will stay down.
The problem with the devil bug when you are the mommy is that the little ones don't quite understand why you aren't responding to their pleas for cookies for school, to come see the puppy next door or for a dry diaper.
And even with the best of help, which I had, there is no substitute for a mommy. The little guys just want mommy.
Unless they can get grandma.
She will come, cook, clean, take care of the little ones, basically wear herself out with caring for the ones struck down by the devil bug.
But as we all know, payback is a witch, and payback will come, usually in the form of a telephone call very early one morning. It will go something like this:
'This is me, your mother. I am sick. It is your fault.'
Don't even think of mentioning it is really the fault of the children. They are her grandchildren, and as such have never done anything wrong, never will do anything wrong, and are basically perfect. Never forget that again.
So in order to keep peace in the family, you will be obligated to go to her home, cook, clean and wear yourself out taking care of her.
By the time you get back to your own home, going to work will look like a picnic. You will be glad to go to work.
Except for that one little problem. You know the one.
That queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, the one that tells you the devil bug left your mother, only to repossess you.
In this instance, there is only one thing left to do.
Go on into the office and share it with the people there. It is probably the only way to get it out of your house.
Connie Nowlin is managing editor of the Atmore Advance and may be reached at 368-2123 or email at email@example.com