Triscuits & Tapwater

We are brought low.

Enzo had swine flu and came through it in a week, hearty as a little bull. But he watched a lot of TV in that week, and now he thinks that’s what his life should be like all the time. Sounds good to me.

When he was sick he fell asleep in my arms at night, just like when he was a baby. After I'd read just a couple of books his eyes would start to close, and he'd turn around and sort of nestle down against my chest and fall asleep--the most delicious feeling.

Less delicious was when I accidentally ate one of his loogeys. He was eating breakfast and gave a great sneeze. I ran for Kleenex, but then I couldn't find any snot--not on his hands, his face, or his plate. A few minutes later I took a bite of his untouched English muffin. And then I saw glistening on the buttery muffin--the loogey.

Now Teresa and I have the flu. We are old and tired. I’m hiding out in Teresa’s studio with a trial transcript and a bunch of trashy magazines. Enzo thinks I’m gone, which is the only way I can get any work done (or any trashy magazines read). I have a box of Triscuits and some water. Every few hours I heave myself up and squat over a Revere Ware saucepan to take a pee. I am a mature professional woman.

When Enzo was sick he ate almost nothing for a week. Now he looks a little thin. So I’m feeling completely miserable and also guilty that Teresa has to do the hard work while I just be a lawyer, and at the same time some part of me is thinking cheerfully, “Oh goody, maybe I’ll get thin.” And I just had a delicious fantasy about ending up in the hospital and getting all my trials continued and being extremely brave and interesting. So there are consolations.

The refrigerator is crammed full of rotting food. As far as I can tell, we have nothing to eat except fish sticks and popsicles. So this morning I dragged myself to Safeway and got the stuff to make chicken soup. Jewish Penicillin Grandma Clara called it, to everyone’s intense embarrassment. Chicken, salt, water, whole carrots and celery (don’t bother to wash, who fucking cares) an onion and a head of garlic (don’t bother to peel), put it all in the slow cooker on high for three of four hours. Ladle out some broth and chicken. Make toast.