Crumpled Home

(Everyone in the family has the flu and no one is sleeping well.)

RJ: (whispering) The clock… It says it’s after 4 now… It says, “Four, two, seven.” … Can we get up now?

Dad: RJ! How many times do I have to tell you? You have to wait until the clock says six… Maybe five, but four is WAY too early. Lay there and try to get back to sleep. Make up stories or something.

RJ: O-kay…

(A few minutes pass, then Dad feels something crawl across his back… RJ’s voice quietly drifts across the bed…)

Pirate Patchy: Hi there Mr Ghost Light. How are you today?

Mr Ghost Light: Not good Patchy. It’s a bad day today.

Pirate Patchy: Why’s that Ghosty?

Mr Ghost Light: Today is the day that all the lights die.

Pirate Patchy: Oh no! That’s terrible!

Mr Ghost Light: I know, but it just has to happen. Oh no! It’s going to happen now! Five, four, three, two, one… *click*

(RJ switches off his nightlight.)

Pirate Patchy: No! Mr Ghost Light! Noooo! Waaaaahhhhhh… (crying noises) This is… the worst day… ever…

(LR is wandering around with a surface thermometer in hand)

LR: Your turn, Dad. (click) 33 degrees… So…  Grammy, Dad and Mum were all 33 degrees.

LR: (checks herself) 34.5 degrees! Hmmm…

LR: (checks another part of her head) 35 degrees. Arrgh!

Dad: Why are you so worried about your temperature?

LR: Well… …. How hot do you have to be to have a fever?

Dad: I’d say three degrees more than normal means you’re pretty sick. Less than that isn’t such a big deal.

LR: I want to get my temperature up just a little bit more… (grinning) Because if I’m sick and have a fever, then I get to lay down on the couch and watch TV all afternoon!

RJ made a rhinovirus this morning and took it to school for news.

His teacher met him at the door, and said “RJ! That’s lovely! Is it a sea urchin?” He said “No, it’s a rhinovirus. Those are protein spikes. They get in your nose and make you sneeze and cough. We all had them this weekend.”

It’s going to be a long 13 years of school…

RJ created his own rhinovirus, complete with protein spikes.

Roachy was looking very feeble that morning; on his back, legs stuck in the air, barely moving at all. RJ spent some time finding the right kind of tree bark “medicine” and carefully placing it next to Roachy. The rest of us had pretty much given up hope. Roachy was well on his way to becoming an ex-cockroach.

The next morning over breakfast, we held our breath as RJ carefully looked into the box.  To our dismay surprise, we found Roachy happily perched on his piece of bark, antennae waving jauntily in greeting.

“He’s all better! He’ll need some food!” cried RJ.

After a healthy breakfast of lettuce, tomato and mushroom, Roachy was looking terrific. RJ declared him healed and we sent the two of them off together to school.

The teachers must be getting really, really sick of our ‘pets’.

Today we learn that roaches are TOUGH... After the apocalypse the only things that will survive... Cochroaches... Twinkies... and the remains of things held together with duct tape.