How the Dad fought sickness. How Dad got Better.

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(Based on “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” by Dr. Seuss)

Kids in the house had foreheads so hot.
Daddy didn’t like it, no he did not.
He didn’t understand. It was past flu season.
Why are they sick? What could be the reason?


Kids feel like their heads don’t feel right.
Kids feel their noses are too tight.
It’s real bad. The most sickly child of all
Feels like their nose is two sizes too small.


Whatever the problem, the head or the nose,
We’re hating this illness – flu or just colds.

My Kids are Sick

Tissues in formation for
sickly people in need.


Seeing them in bed, their sad little frowns.
Everyone’s sick. The sickest family in town.
I knew every child, downstairs and up,
all were sick. Just please don’t throw up.


“They’re running a fever,” I said with some gloom,
Wondering why the littles must be in my room.
Then I thought with paranoia nervously running,
How do I prevent my own illness from coming?


One day soon, I knew, being this close to kids
Breathing on me, would put my own health on the skids.
And then! Oh, the coughing, the sneezing, the noise.
Noise, Noise, Noise!


Who would cook the wife’s and children’s great feasts?
Cajun recipes, exotic dishes, upon which to feast.
FEAST, FEAST, FEAST!
Who would make them their food, their lovely grilled meats?
It was something this Daddy couldn’t stand in the least.


I know they’ll do something I like least of all.
Every kid in this house, the tall and the small,
Will come one-by-one like Christmas bells ringing
They’ll stand at my bed like fallen angels singing
And they’ll say there’s no clothes, and, “I’m hungry, Dad.”
DAD, DAD, DAD!
And the more I thought of these needy kids,
I knew I must put being sick on the skids.
For two weeks I’ve put up with coughing and fits.
I must find a way to end all of it.

Dad isn’t Feeling Well

Then I got a feeling. An awful feeling.
Daddy got a terrible, awful feeling.
Whatever shall I do? What’s this in my throat?
I’m walking around with medicine in my coat!

Cough drops come in handy for the coughing
and scratchy throat.


I sniffled and coughed. This isn’t fun.
Another symptom for me, and I will be done.
All I need is green tea and I will be hopping
But green tea was scarce because no one was shopping.
Do we have any juice? “No,” children said.
I’ll drink me some water, then off to bed.


I went under the covers with a stuffy head.
The next day I drove the kids to their school.
Then back home stumbling like a fool.
I opened the window for a little fresh air.
The state of the kitchen gave me a scare.
I’ll close my eyes first, then see what’s down there.


I tucked myself in. My eyelids went down.
The dirtiest house, now the sickest in town.
But Wife soon went shopping. Green tea filled the air.
Daddy needed tea, sherbet, and care.

Dad still Fights Sickness

Freeze pops help, too.


I faced another day in bed. Can’t leave there.


My throat was scratchy, my stuffy nose hissed.
I rolled over in bed, tissues in fist.
I slid out of bed, went into the kitchen
and grabbed some of that green tea I was missin’.


Water boiling, I sat for a moment or two.
Hoping to myself that it’s not the flu.
Tea bag in cup. Hot water flows.
“This illness,” I said, “Has just got to go.”
I slithered back in bed, feeling most unpleasant.
Kids sick in the past. I’m sick in the present.
Sudafed, Nyquil, hot tea with honey.
Cough drops and Gatorade; It’s really not funny.

DayQuil and NyQuil help me function.


Tissues and boxes in trash bags so nimbly.
Multiple bags filled one-by-one, by Jiminy.
I’m just having fruit and sherbet and teas.
No mashed potatoes. I can’t have roast beast!

Watch Daddy Take Care of Himself

I cleaned out that icebox of juices and fruits.
Why, I even took some iced tea to boot!
Then I drank all of my juice up with glee.
“And NOW,” grinned Daddy, “I will catch me some Z’s!”
So, I climbed into bed, and I’m ready to snore,
And I heard the small sound of one kid, maybe more.
I raised my head fast; I saw a young kid.
The Oppressed, who wanted to know what I did.
I had been caught by my youngest daughter
Who wanted to see if I wanted some water.

Daughter Loves her Dad

She stared at me and said, “Daddy, why”
“Why are you stuck in your bed? WHY?”
But, you know, this daddy is smart, though he’s sick.
I gave her my answer. I thought of it quick.
“Why, my sweet little tot,” The sick daddy told,
“Daddy’s got sniffles, a headache, and cold”
“I’m taking it easy in my bedroom, my dear.”
“I’m getting some rest and recovery here.”


My daughter heard the answer. I patted her head.
She brought me a drink as I went to bed.
And when The Oppressed left me with my cup,
I took me a nap with my nose still stuffed up.
Then the last thing I did before closing my eyes
Was wish to be better, then exhaled a sigh.
And the one little sound that I heard in the house
Was Kitty’s tail swishing as she tracked down a mouse.


I was feeling the same as my kids felt before:
Achy and tired and sniffling and sore.
Whatever the time, I know teens still a-bed.
Some kids are out playing. At least I’m not dead.

Dad is Doing Everything he Can

Tucked under blankets with meds and green tea,
along with the fruit and hot tea with honey.
Plenty of food and medicine ingested,
I just need to feel healthy and rested.
“Pooh-pooh to all this,” I was grumbly humming,
“This is how my kids were succumbing.
“If could wake up feeling fresh and anew,
“I could play catch for a minute or two
“Then the boy could go out and get fresh air, too.”


That is fun that this daddy simply MUST have.
Daddy rested, pulling blankets to his face
Hearing nothing, not a sound in the place.
My snores started slow, then started to grow.
I suppose it did, ‘cuz my wife told me so.
I slept and I snored, then I drank some more juice
and after days of suffering, I shook my illness loose.


Dad Feels Better. Dad Feels Good!

I woke up one day, popped open my eyes.
I could eat solid food, what a pleasant surprise!
We had all gotten better. The tall and the small
Were functioning. I could watch the boy hit the ball!
Homework had stopped, then restarted. It CAME!
I cooked meals no one ate. It was back to the same.
And Daddy resumed duties of the day,
Driving his youngest children to school both ways.
I can cook food and clean, and pick up the clothes.
I don’t need to worry ’bout this runny nose.
And I puzzled for hours, and puzzled some more.
I was happy to feel as I had felt before.
I was happy to be well, not feeling sore.


And I can now do a little, and a little bit more.
And what happens next? Well, like they say,
my sinuses had grown three sizes those days (they do say that).
And now my head doesn’t feel so tight.
I start my workload at first morning light.
I’m picking up toys, and I’m cooking feasts.
That’s great! I, myself, love me roast beast!

Check out my Facebook page for more parenting nuggets and gems. Facebook.com/BraveDaddy

What Happens when the Parent gets Sick

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Sometimes people get sick. When the parent gets sick, specifically me, I need to put my big-boy pants on and deal with it. If one of my children, however, fall ill, I need to attend to them and make sure they are comfortable on their way to recovery.

Sick Child

My services (and my bed) were needed when The Oppressed fell ill one day. I got that phone call from the school that parents dread. Your child isn’t feeling well. They have a slight fever. We need you to pick them up.

I went to the school to pick up my daughter. The nurse spoke to me. The Oppressed had a slight fever and couldn’t stop coughing. I stopped at the store to buy some lemon drops and Life Savers, hoping sucking on some hard candy would help the cough and the throat.

I brought her home. She went straight to my bedroom where Wife checked her forehead to confirm a fever. We checked her temperature. She had a fever. The nurse told us she couldn’t come to school the next day no matter how she felt. The Oppressed was devastated to hear this news.

My daughter was on my side of the bed for the whole night. I camped out in The Boy’s room. The Boy was happy about it. The Oppressed was happy to be with Wife.

The next morning, I gave The Oppressed a couple of sips of coffee to help out the coughing and wheezing. We’ll give a nebulizer later in the day in case this isn’t just her body waking up. I then went to the supermarket. I bought tea, juice, fruit. The things I buy, consume, and promote to my children whenever I or someone else in the house gets sick. I made sure she had plenty of fluids, especially tea with honey. We did what we could to get the fever under control. School said The Oppressed needs to be fever-free without medicine for 24 hours before she returns.

Sick Children

The Gaggle approached me the day after The Oppressed came home. They told me they were getting sick. The child asked if I could procure some bone broth for them. It’s something they swear by it when they’re feeling ill.

Nasty, but effective.

So, I’m off to the store again. Before I go, I check in with The Oppressed. I mention something to her about when I got sick when I was around her age. My grandfather gave me something when was sick. I had a bad cold. I had never heard of it before, but he gave me something called “Fisherman’s Friend”. This was one of the absolute nastiest things I had ever tasted (right up there with Robitussin DM), but it works. I’ll never forget the taste of it. I explained to The Oppressed how nasty Fisherman’s Friend tastes but also tell her how effective it is. She wasn’t keen on trying it at first, but she appears to be coming around since her symptoms of coughing and a sore throat aren’t going away.

Fisherman’s Friend is one of the absolute nastiest things I had ever tasted, right up there with Robitussin DM.

I went to the store for bone broth, more juice, more fruit. I also find a small package of Fisherman’s Friend. This one, however is not like the one I took in the days of my youth. This particular kind has a mint exterior. I take this one and explain to the oppressed that this could potentially be a better one than the original one I take. She agrees to try it. I leave her with the medicine and return downstairs to put the other things away and to inform The Gaggle I have returned with their bone broth. The Gaggle comes to the kitchen to prepare it. After the latest round of groceries are put away, and I go back upstairs to check on The Oppressed to see how she is doing. She’s doing alright.

I am with her reading while she watches YouTube. Moments pass, and I hear my youngest daughter make a weird sound. I turn to look, and she looks like she drank straight lemon juice. She is fanning herself with her fingers and in a gurgling voice says, “barrel”. I give her a wastebasket and she spits the Fisherman’s Friend tablet into it. I’m guessing the mint exterior had melted away and she was tasting the actual medicine itself.

Robitussin DM. The bane of my childhood.

“That stuff is nasty,” she tells me. “How do you eat that?”

“It’s nasty, but it works,” I tell her. “You just suck it up and deal with the nasty taste and feel better.”

Watch closely. The hands are quicker than the eye.

Forget the suck it up and deal with it. The Oppressed is done with this nasty-tasting medicine, and she would much rather drink fluids and flush it out. A round of Harry Potter movies should go rather well with the fluids to help the convalescence.

One day, I take her to the beach. This is another remedy I learned from my grandfather. Fresh salt air for the lungs. The Oppressed and I sit down on the bench and watch the ocean come in. She puts on a little magic show for me with the change I have in my pocket. On the way home, she tells me how much better she feels from the beach. The coughing stopped for a little while.

Parents Feeling sort of Better

The week was coming to a close. Everyone was looking forward to two days off from work and school. I was looking forward to watching The Boy play baseball. There was a rib fest happening on the Lexington Green and we had no set plans as of yet. My nose was running a little on Friday, but that’s to be expected in spring with allergies and pollen working together to wreak a little havoc on a delicate creature like me. Saturday came and I took The Boy to his game. He did a rain dance in the driveway before getting into the car and after getting out of the car at the field. It didn’t work and the baseball gods allowed me to watch a baseball game.

One of my favorite things to watch.

The Boy’s team won, and as of now they are tied for first place. I went home and said I wasn’t feeling great, so I thought I would lie down for a bit. I woke up congested with a cough and a runny nose. This is unacceptable. There is a rib fest happening at the Lexington Green. Wife took the kids to the movies on Saturday night.

The Rest of the Weekend

I remain home with The Oppressed. We watch “Hook” while everyone else watches the latest Dr. Strange movie. I pop a Nyquil, retire to bed, and sleep until 9:30. Me sleeping that late is unheard of in this house. I’m not feeling great. I take a Dayquil and wife brings me coffee. This is Day 2 of the rib fest and I’m not feeling like leaving the house on a glorious spring day. The gods are mocking me in this fashion. I sit in my chair, sipping coffee and share my plight with the world. I might have to take a Fisherman’s Friend.

Monday morning has arrived. I sleep until after 7:00. I’m usually the first one out of bed to wake the teens for the bus. Wife took care of that for me. Today, it looks like I’ll be coaching from the sidelines but that’s alright. My kids are motivated and self-starters, right?

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