My daughter wasn’t feeling well this past weekend. For twelve hours, she suffered through stomach pains, nausea, and a brutal headache. After a long night of back scratches, head rubs, cuddles, and story time, she finally started to improve. We spent the rest of the weekend taking it easy and giving her body the time it needed to recover. By Sunday night, she was back to normal. Before she fell asleep, she said that the best part about feeling sick was feeling better. I love the succinct clarity with which children philosophize.
I was thinking about her words this morning when I woke up. After a sleepless night on Saturday and a late night watching the Tony’s on Sunday, I felt like taking a sick day myself. I knew that there were errands to run, a toilet to fix, a fence to mend, laundry to wash, and deadlines to meet. I started to feel queasy. A headache, I was sure, was not far behind.
Why not take a sick day? I asked. It wasn’t crucial that I got the errands done, the toilet could wait till tomorrow (thankfully, we have another.) The fence has been broken for four days – one more wouldn’t matter. The laundry could wait – we weren’t out of underwear yet! As for those deadlines – they were self – imposed. By executive order, I granted myself a 24 – hour reprieve.
And so, here I am. Feeling perfectly healthy and happy on my sick day. I’m enjoying the sounds of my carefree children playing together. My dogs are napping. There may not be much in the cabinets for dinner, but somehow, we’ll pull something together. We’ll be eating cherries and half of a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch (we only have three pieces of bread left in the breadbox.)
The sun just poked through the clouds and my bare feet are begging for the warmth of its rays. The patio furniture beckons. The girls and I have some drawing and coloring to do. There’s that book on the shelf that I wanted to start reading last year. The phone is off the hook.
I agree with my daughter. The best part about feeling sick is feeling better.
I love sick days.