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I decided to take time out of my busy schedule preparing for the Christmas onslaught and pondering whether I’m a wallpaper person after all – I never thought so, but it’s definitely growing on me – to entertain a bout of holiday bronchitis.

The nice part about being sick is that I can loll around in pajamas and watch Merchant and Ivory movies in the middle of the day without feeling guilty.

The not-so-nice part is that Sam refuses to accept parental illness. Oh, sure, he’ll smile sweetly and say, "I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, Mama.'

But then come the requests:

"Will you get up and get me a snack?"

"Can I turn this off and watch one of my movies instead?"

"I’m hungry."

"Will you come play with me? In my room? Now?"

"Look at this." An unattractive hunk of plastic is thrust an inch away from my nose. "It’s my Transformer. And if I do this, he turns in to a plane! Isn't that cool? Isn't it? Isn't it? Come on, Mama. Say, 'Yes, that's cool!' Say it!!!!"

"Can we go to the playground?"

"I want my dinner."

Where is Mary Poppins when I need her?

Posted 09 December 2008 at 09:40 AM