FAKER
Hey !
Did you know TODAY is
It’s true.
Because Super Bowl festivities, even during these times of Covid, sure doooooo take a toll on a body, right ?
r i g h t
ahhhh.
Reminds me of my days of yesteryear
aka, elementary school
Having to go back there after any type of time off was the absolute worst
& I’m pretty sure I hold the record for low attendance due to faked sicknesses.
No wait … I take that back
Younger Brother carries a rather impressive I Don’t Feel Sooooo Good … ! title too.
I don’t like to brag, but we were good.
Real good.
So good, sometimes we’d both be home from school with made up ills.
hmmmm.
We probably should have coordinated our strategies a bit better.
At the risk of receiving the infamous Mad Face from Dad, who never believed our sick shtick, today, I offer up my three best fakes.
# 1.
I once attached myself to my younger sister who happened to be suffering through chicken pox.
Everywhere she went, I went.
Everything she did, I did.
My parents thought I was being helpful.
My innocent sister just wanted my attention.
Little did they know, I had a sinister plan.
What I was trying to do was catch that itchy, spotty chicken pox from my sweet sibling.
I didn’t care that I had already had the virus.
I was going to get that bugger again.
fyi …
I didn’t.
rats.
# 2.
One morning, I took a sip of orange juice.
I then sat at the kitchen table and waited for just the right moment.
Perfect timing was the key.
My family wondered why I wasn’t talking ? and are you feeling ok, Jacki ?!?
Yay.
There’s my cue.
I suddenly jumped up and ran to the bathroom and “vomited” my oj
& yes.
I did stay home from school that day.
so. so. wrong.
# 3
I was already at school, but just wasn’t feeling it.
I told my teacher my stomach hurt.
She sent me down to the office.
Since younger brother and I were regular visitors, the receptionist and principal gave each other that look who’s here again glance as I walked in.
I knew the routine.
They would ask me what’s wrong, take my temperature and send me back to class, but you can’t blame a girl for trying.
The thermometer always sat in the same spot.
It was in a small, tight container which was filled with rubbing alcohol or some sort of concoction to kill the germs.
The receptionist would take the thermometer out, wipe it off and place it in my mouth.
This time though, the lady was preoccupied.
She forgot to wipe the thermometer off.
When the thermometer entered my mouth I ingested the germ concoction and started coughing.
Uncontrollably coughing.
The principal and receptionist looked at me with shock and concern in their eyes.
I heard them mutter, Laryngitis ?? Swollen glands ??
They hurriedly checked my temperature, which had probably skyrocketed because I was coughing so much
… then ….
They called my mama.
I got to go home.
YES.
Yep.
Those were the days, my friend.
Mom would hand over such sweet TLC.
A cozy bed, a cold compress, something to eat.
A barf bucket, just in case.
No cares.
No concerns.
No worries.
Until Dad came home.
gulp.
Try as I might, unless I was really, truly sick Dad could see right through me.
….. and …..
Mad. Face.
I’d feel horribly guilty that he knew that I knew that he knew I was faking, but that never stopped me from plotting my next disease.
Well Dad, even though you and Mom were wise to my antics all along, today I am confessing.
I was an elementary school sickness pretender.
Yes.
Yes, I was.
But so was your youngest son …!…
hey, if I’m going down you’re coming too, my brother.
! FAKER !
! ! ! ! !