‘Twas the cough that carried him off

I’ve been out of commission for the past few days. Fortunately, it was only a bout of bronchitis and I am happy to report that I haven’t been hacked to death by my neighbour. Yet.

I appear to be on the mend (but that could be the drugs talking), although it still feels like someone has been at the inside of my chest with a wire brush. On the subject of drugs, being ill has always been a rather bitter pill for me to swallow, so it’s curiously appropriate that my medication has the side effect of leaving a bitter taste in my mouth that lasts for hours. A pity they can’t make it coffee-flavoured.

My wife has implied that I may be overstating the seriousness of my condition. She hasn’t actually used the word ‘malingering’ but it’s clear that she doesn’t believe that I’m ‘really’ sick. This is probably because I don’t spend the entire time whining about how ill I am (unlike some people I could mention). Despite her scepticism, she has nonetheless banished me to the camp-cot in the study so that my nocturnal hacking and spluttering won’t interfere with her slumbers.

The gods of poetic justice are on my side though, because my new sleeping arrangement means that I am too far away to hear the sprog when she decides to sing out in the middle of the night. The youngster normally responds to my brand of “Shaddap’n’gobacktasleep!“, because she knows I’m a mean old bastard and my capacity for sympathy is reduced to zero at 2 a.m. In contrast, when my wife tries to settle her, she gets excited and mutates into a pint-sized banshee.

Shrieking, or coughing? Tough choice, but I think I would have chosen door number two.


11 thoughts on “‘Twas the cough that carried him off

  1. maybe the kid next door poisoned your milk or something. imagine that! oh gawd, maybe your wife and him are in it together. that would explain u being in the other room. oh, i’d be careful dude! very careful.


  2. eKapa: I’m not worried. he’d have to sneak past me to get to the bedroom, unless… he was already there, hiding in the cupboard. Shit! Gotta go!


  3. Hopefully someday soon, we’ll have some of our own pint-sized banshees around here. Unless I’m knocking Zube Boy out in my sleep, 2AM is such a lame hour in our household.

    Glad you are feeling bitter, I mean better! ๐Ÿ™‚ A few months ago, I was on percocet (which I can’t spell) for a toothache, and let me tell you, that drug is WAY more fun when you don’t HAVE to take it. Oops. Did I say that out loud?


  4. Of COURSE your wife doesn’t believe you. Men are notorious when it comes to faking illness to get out of chores which they dislike. Not that that’s what you’re doing. Naturally.


  5. ZG: I don’t really go in for the ‘symptomatic relief’ medication much. I mean, how the hell will you know if you’re better if you feel fine while you’re still sick? Anyhoo, the doc’s given me some funky pink’n’green capsules for the pain, but I’m keeping them so I can celebrate when I’m all better.

    Hannah: Damn, but you’re good. Chaosmonger (aka Mrs Kyknoord) is allergic to chores, so if I don’t do them, they don’t get done. Sometimes I need a break.


  6. I am pleased to have confirmation that you are still among the living; both in reference to the bronchitis and the creepy neighbor. As far as door #1 or door #2? I’d pick door #3… the nearest inn. I’m a light sleeper and if anyone wakes me once I do fall asleep, it’s mayhem I tell you, absolute mayhem!
    Maybe it’s just the pirate in me… LM =)


  7. LucyMcG: Aaarh! T’be sure, that it be! Door #3 would make perfect sense to any sane person, but Mrs K is suffering from baby-induces psychosis, so she isn’t thinking straight at the mo’.

    Paul: Thanks, buddy. Will do ๐Ÿ™‚


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