calling out sick

growing up, getting sick was almost an enjoyable event. when she could, momma V would stay home and take care of me and make chao ga topped with you tiao and ginger tea. on days that she had to work, i would go to ba mua's house just a block down the street from saddler house.

ba mua was a diminutive woman with frizzy, short hair and a kind smile. she was uncle joe's mom. uncle joe was not really my uncle but rather my dad's cousin and by far one of my more americanized relatives. he spoke english with ease and was a huge debbie gibson and redskins fan. uncle joe worked so my sick days at ba mua's house consisted of me amusing myself and watching nickelodean all day. ba mua would feed me buttery corn on the cob but always cut off all the kernals to make it easier for me to eat.

as an adult, getting sick is hardly fun. i feel bad for missing work and lazying around so i'm catching up on laundry and trying to will myself to either (1) make clam chowder or (2) go to the grocery store. theng thinks my body is protesting from being overworked and stressed and signalling that i need to slow down. and maybe she's right. so for now, i'm resting up, curled under my heavy blankets, and about to pop in a DVD and hopefully fall asleep.