Tater and Tot

Just a little dirt from my Tater Patch.

10.31.2006

A True Story.

This is a true story.

I am sick. Sick, sick, sick. I am so sick, in fact, that I can't talk. I can only squeak and whisper. This is not fun. It hurts to talk, and no one can hear me.

The girls are sick. Sick, sick, sick. I took them to the doctor this morning and they were both diagnosed with bronchitis and prescribed an antibiotic. This is not fun. They are dazed and confused, and no one can hold their attention.

On the way from the doctor's office to a drive thru to grab some lunch, I had this conversation with Tater. Remember, we're sick. Sick, sick, sick.

Me: What would you like for lunch?

Tater: Huh?

Me: What would you like for lunch?

Tater: Huh?

Me: What would you like for lunch?

Tater: Chicky Nuggets and French Fries. And a toy.

Me: Well, you have to eat all of your food in order to get a toy.

Tater: Huh?

Me: Well, you have to eat all of your food in order to get a toy.

Tater: Huh?

Me: Well, you have to eat all of your food in order to get a toy.

Tater (clearly irritated): Just say "never mind."

Me (relieved): Okay then, never mind.

Tater: Huh?

If you find my voice, please bring it back.

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3 Comments:

At 11:55 PM, Blogger Heather said...

I'm in the same boat, sista.
Sucks, don't it?

My husband thinks it's wonderful.

 
At 12:38 PM, Blogger Becky said...

Hope you and the spuds are feeling better soon!

 
At 7:02 PM, Blogger Susan said...

I shouldn't laugh, but that's so funny.

Feel better, all of you.

 

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