Well Amigos, you’d think we’d have PLENTY of room in the comfy king-sized bed at Casa de Canterbury without you-know-who, but think again.
The old woman Slow has her days and nights mixed up, and we don’t know when she will need her place so we have to huddle at the bottom of the bed to be prepared for the pile- on.
Tonight she self-medicated with her grandmother’s tried and true mixture of honey, lemon juice and bourbon heated in a pan on the stove and poured quickly into a shot glass and downed in a gulp. The Red Man has observed that the measurement proportions appear to be shifting from equal to light on the lemon juice and heavier on the bourbon as the dosages increase. I’m just saying.
Regardless, still more coughing and coughing. Restlessness.
Next, she took her two Aleves for her regular arthritis and sciatica pains – followed by her controlled substance drug of choice, ambien. Usually, this will ease her into dreamland, but not tonight.
Continued coughing and now Pretty is awake, too. The Red Man is awake, Spike is awake, Pretty is unhappily awake – and Chelsea has left the bed for the sofa downstairs.
Entonces which is Spanish for then, Slow gets up and heads for the medicine cabinet and reaches for the Big Gun. Nyquil. Ignoring the label about too much acetaminophen can kill you or worse, she pours the cap full and chugs it. I feel like I’m at a fraternity party.
So I told her we might as well write something since we’re up anyway. So here we are in the middle of the night sending an appeal to all of our cyber space Sports Fans for any suggestions for curing the cough and knocking out the daffy old twit.
This is our second night with this problemo which is Spanish for problem and frankly, my dears, I’m forced to give a damn since her cough is both annoying and leads to my own sleep deprivation.
Get me outta here Percy…it’s a full moon and I’m wide awake. Heads are going to roll.
P.S. She must be reaching an altered state now – she’s had to look up how to spell acetaminophen three times. Finally she brought the Nyquil bottle to the computer and after checking the spelling one more time, took another swig of the green vileness for good luck. Oh yeah, beam her up, Scotty.