Gather ’round, boys and girls but not too close ‘cuz Momma don’t feel too good. Tell you what, she got the nasties tap-dancing in her belly and twisting her intestines. I do believe she’s caught herself some kinda bug.
And that damn germ’s playing tic-tac-woe with her daily constitution.
Let’s see, today’s what, Thursday? That’s right, which means one week ago today Momma started feeling mighty poorly, what’d she say? Like she swallowed a baseball studded with thorns. Delightful, let me tell you. Whatever it was, felt like she cut her throat right up, poor thing; not to mention her general malaise.
But the last couple days she started feeling better. Momma thought she might be on the mend. Yesterday she went outside and wrote some; same today and plus she watched TV, even croaked out a conversation and things were looking up, she turned the corner, not completely well but getting there and then today–this very afternoon–her better half whipped up one delightful dinner; hell, she felt so fine she even made the biscuits! Then she plopped down and helped herself to a big ol’ bowl of mr kk’s finest. . .
But as soon as that last delicious spoonful slid past her lips and down her slender, tender throat, Momma was rocked with nausea and a dizzy spell that threw her for a loop, knocked her off her feet, blindsided her big time and at that moment, that precise tick of the clock she leaned back and proclaimed herself sick as a goddamn dog, she got the bug, that Rag Time Germ and now it’s back for seconds, played her for a fool, slid down her gullet, slipped into her gut and heartily exclaimed, “Let’s knock her goddamn socks off, send her reeling, holy SHIT this is gonna be fun–“