I've been mostly curled up in bed for the last week, feeling like I was run over by a loaded down semi, alternately shivering because I could not get warm, and kicking the blankets off because I felt too hot. I haven't felt that bad in a long time, and I think Char is amazed because I haven't been that still for a long time, either. I slept away much of it, had the TV on when I was awake, but I couldn't tell you what was on, and I drank every time Char told me to. Eating, that was a different matter. Food held no appeal at all, and as much as she wanted me to, I couldn't make myself do more than nibble.
As bad as I felt, I know it was really a fairly mild case of the flu. I wasn't coughing up my lungs, just had a mildly irritating cough once in a while. So there was little doubt that as long as I stayed in bed and stayed hydrated, I'd get over it without any problems.
The thing is, I missed my daughter's birthday. I hate missing birthdays. I missed being the one to drive her to her first date, and while Brad did an excellent job of terrifying her date in my stead, there's nothing like doing the job yourself. Hell, he may have done a better job. I was only going to make him squirm until I dropped the kids off at the mall; Brad went into the theater with them and sat a dozen rows back. Rachel's date, the boy named Cheese, didn't even dare put his arm around her, because that giant, scary black dude would probably lift him out of his chair by his scalp.
I give the kid credit; he still called her the next day, and I don't think either one of them will complain about me being the one driving them places in the future.
But the thing that has me bummed out the most; I'm still running a low temperature and still don't feel up to snuff, and tomorrow is our 16th anniversary. We had plans, all of which Char has already canceled. I'm grateful that we'll still spend it together, but it's liable to just be curled up on the bed watching a DVD, listening to the kids argue in the living room.
We'll make do.
I also had it in my head that Alex would be able to get his learner's permit tomorrow, but apparently I jumped the gun by a month on that. Which, actually, I'm glad about, because by then I'll be able to take him to the DMV for the test.
Char sure as hell doesn't want to.
She refuses to admit he turns 16 this year.
Which is fine, because I refuse to admit I turn 50.
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