'Not too good'
CODY SOSSAMON PUBLISHER

Raise your hand if you, or anyone you know, has been sick in the past month?

By sick, I mean that cruddy, flu-like feeling with low fever, chills, cough, aches and just the general all-around blahs?

I see very few hands NOT raised.

That means almost everyone has recently felt like I did for the past several weeks, but the worst of it was last week.

Ah yes, last week. Sunday, Feb. 17 - Sunday, Feb. 24. I felt like, well, let's just say not too good since this is a family publication and my mother will likely read this column.

Last week, the worst I've felt in years for more than a day or two at a time, that was the week my wife decided to head for the beach.

Her and her 'gull' friends as they call themselves. Isn't that cute? 'Gull' friends. Get it? Beach. Sea gulls. Friends.

In all fairness, my wife didn't realize I was going to be sick when she made her beach plans. But she did know I was sick when she left. But, she didn't know I would be sick for the ENTIRE week. But she did know as each day passed and she called to check on us.

'Us' being me, our daughter Abbie and son Paul.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not begrudging my wife a little time away from the drudgery of everyday life - cooking, cleaning, carpooling and pet care.

We all need breaks now and then.

What I'm complaining about is that my wife has spoiled us all to the point that it is now difficult for us to fend for ourselves. My normal routine is to get up, drink the coffee she has made, go to work, get home about six, plop down in the recliner for a quick nap while the news is on and wake up to those wonderful words, "Honey, dinner's ready."

I'm not a half bad cook, when I'm feeling good. And I 'hang out a good wash' if my energy level is up. Getting Abbie to and from school is no biggie and taking care of the animals (dogs, cats and Paul) is likewise not a problem.

IF I'm not sick.

When I'm sick, though, just getting myself to work is a huge accomplishment. HUGE.

The wife did call a couple of times a day to check on me. "Hey, how are feeling?"

"Not too good."

"I'm sorry. Guess where we went to eat last night? It was wonderful."

The second conversation later in the afternoon would go something like this.

"Hey, honey! How are feeling?"

"Not too good."

"I'm sorry. Well, we're just sitting out in the sun on the deck looking at the ocean...it's SOOOO beautiful."

My dinners for the first part of the week consisted of: Monday - Campbell's chicken noodle soup.

Tuesday - Campbell's chicken noodle soup and ham sandwich.

Wednesday - chicken salad sandwich.

Thursday - Campbell's chicken noodle soup and bologna sandwich.

Friday, I heard Abbie talking to her mother on the phone (yes, she was actually talking, not texting).

"I'm tired of soup and sandwiches," was all I heard.

It would have hurt my feelings, but I was kind tired of it, too. But what's a sick man to do?

I broke down Friday and felt like something a bit more substantial. I got a chicken breast, corn and greens from across the street at Ingles. Abbie went to Bronco's with friends. I don't know what Paul did.

My Ingles' dinner was good, but it shore weren't the home cookin' to which I've become accustomed.

We did manage to keep the house fairly straight (dishes done, clothes washed) and to my knowledge all of the animals survived.

We made it through the week and I'm pert near back to normal as for my health.

I knew I had Monday night when I was awakened from my evening nap with those sweet, wonderful words, "Honey, dinner's ready."

Once again, life is good.

Cody Sossamon (cody@gaffneyledger.com) is publisher of The Gaffney Ledger.