WARNING!! This is a sobering and somber example of what can happen to a Perfectly Normal Person who gets too deprived of human contact while being imprisoned in a house with screaming brats. If this doesn't Scare You Straight (To Kleenex Tissues), what will?
One day Pansy's daughter, Pansy Junior, said to her boyfriend--who was the son of not just one, but two, doctors:
P.Jr.: My mom is really sick.
BF: How sick?
P.Jr.: She is SO SICK she has a rag in her mouth.
BF: Whaaaa?
P.Jr.: You know. She has a RAG IN HER MOUTH.
BF: What in fuck for?
P.Jr.: So she won't get laryngitis.
BF: How does this rag thing work?
P.Jr: [see explanation below]
Pansy used to never be sick. She was healthier than THREE draft horses put together. No, she didn't resemble three draft horses, she was merely as healthy as three of them. Her inability to be sick began upon entering the Hallowed Ranks of Motherhood. Not because germs no longer affected her. It's that germs don't give a fuck that mothers are TOO BUSY with those screaming brats to have the time to be sick. So, in general, mothers just plow on through...germs or no.
When the occasional ailment did succeed in snagging Pansy, usually by one of her fetlocks, she would Always get so sick that eventually her braying voice would be silenced. Total amnesia. NO. Wait. That doesn't sound right. She would get Total hoarseness into complete laryngitis. How Mr. Pansy would skip for joy and beam!
Then, one day, just as she was starting to really get sick she had an epiphany! She carried a cloth hankie around all day.....hanging from her mouth. She would allow her drool to saturate the hankie. She would then mouth-breathe through said soaking wet from drool hankie. Because it created moisture-laden air for her raw and achy throat. Of course, Pansy also would blow her green, bloody snot onto this hankie. No sense in dirtying more than one hankie at a time now, is there? And guess what?! NO MORE LARYNGITIS! How Mr. Pansy wept. His hopes for even just a few days per year of blessed silence were shattered.
Pansy loved this new Medical Breaththrough she personally invented. Pansy does NOT find it odd that no one in her family said what any Normal Human would have said: THAT IS FUCKING GROSS, YOU SICK FREAK! Of course, Pansy is reknowned for slaying messengers so maybe her family wasn't all that unobservant. They were just cowed.
This Medical Breakthrough happened before the Pansy children were toddlers so they grew up their whole lives evidently thinking this was perfectly normal behavior. It never occurred to them their sainted, all-knowing mother was behaving any differently than all other grownups in the world.
Which is how innocent Pansy Jr. came to be explaining this Rag Business to boyfriend who just about died laughing. He then shared it with his parents who also heartily laughed. Even as they put in motion whatever legal steps were required to cease having anything further to do with the nutcase family Pansy Jr. was now mortified to realize she had been burdened with. Come to think of it, that is just about exactly when Pansy Jr. began her "teenage rebellion" years.
p.s. This fabulous Medical Breakthrough has never been patented because Pansy is a Caring Person and wants you all to be able to enjoy the health benefits, too! She is even thinking of making and marketing "pre-soaked" hankies in convenient travel size pouches. And who couldn't appreciate the accessorizing zestiness that a drool-soaked, bloody green snot encrusted hankie can add to an ensemble?!
Something Pansy Found 2 Lifetimes Ago
Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, But to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain,
But for the heart to conquer it.
Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield,
But to my own strength.
Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved,
But hope for the patience to win my freedom.
Grant me that I may not be a coward,
Feeling your mercy in my success alone,
But let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.
Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain,
But for the heart to conquer it.
Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield,
But to my own strength.
Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved,
But hope for the patience to win my freedom.
Grant me that I may not be a coward,
Feeling your mercy in my success alone,
But let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.
Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
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2 comments:
OMG, is that YOU as a YOUNG [viral-encrusted] THING? Women couldn't get married that young, unless we're talking Texas. Were you EVER that young?
What is it with you women and your stories of getting sick, but still having the strength and stamina to do what still needed to be done. Next thing you'll be telling us your rugged husband with the manly ass-crack would become bedridden and useless to the world after a simple hemmerhoid... homoroid... uh... hemeroyd ..... GAAA! whatever!
SICK AS I WAS, which is always sicker than any "man", I was still valiantly taking out the trash at that moment. No comments about "if you were taking out the trash why aren't YOU in the trash barrel, Pansy?"
Mr. Pansy remains to this day quite pouty that I had stashed my hankie into the robe pocket before turning around and being surprised by his evil camera. It was the only time he ever saw me sick WITHOUT the hankie dripping from my mouth.
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