For the last long weekend of summer, the last long weekend before school starts and the final hurrah of ironing [gods, I hate ironing], labelling and switching sandals for StrideRites, I have succumb to a cold.
I got sick. I smell like I’ve been soaking in oil of oregano and I have permanent pillow marks on my face from napping with the tv on. The cat comes to stare at me in confusion, only to start pulling apart the box of tissues in glee when she recognizes my inability to roll over and stop her.
I don’t get sick often and, when I do, it’s supposed to be after everyone else has had it and there’s nothing big going on.
But no one else has been sick. And this is the final few days before school starts up. We could be sorting out the Magpie’s backpack. We could be clearing a summer’s worth of rocks, crafts and play-doh of her desk. Instead, I am napping. That leaves Mr.Q and the Magpie to their own devices and that has led them to Monopoly. And the park. And picnics. She’s picked up on the purchase of properties and builds up communities as fast as she can collect a block of colours. Meal time leaves the game in stasis while the two head outside for snacks on the playground. The Magpie is spending her long weekend as a monkey-bar queen, real-estate mogul and gourmand.
She gets to monopolize her fun-time.
I get to monopolize the bed.