I used to think of myself as a free spirit. Someone who embraced the chaos of the cosmos, the wild nature of the wind. I always mocked uptight people and their neurotic ways. Not to their face of course, but I never understood why people would get so anxious about life when there is nothing you can do to control the mysterious ways of the universe… or is there?
After dealing with this demon cold…. the cold that was spawned by the bile of Satan…the cold that makes Dick Cheney seem as timid as a bunny rabbit… the cold that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy unless they did something really crummy to me… Yeah, that is the cold I am talking about. After every thing The Munch and I have been through, I got an idea.
I am going to build a plastic bubble, and The Munch is going to live inside of it. Free from bacteria. Free from germs. Free from any potential microbe the will ever invade her unsuspecting little body. Yeah, sure, maybe at school she will be called “gerbil girl,” and that might screw with her self-esteem, which is why I will build a hole in the bubble, big enough for her to shoot pellets of dried dog poo at anyone who dared make fun of her. And I will tell you something… that will sting quite a bit, and leave a smelly imprint on your skin.
Forget the fact that I thought I was going to be this carefree mother who let her child relish in dirt and sprinkle stones on her organic hotdogs. Never mind that I was going to wear white flowing robes while My Munch played with wild dogs and sang into the ears of bumblebees, while whispering secrets to wizards in a willow tree. Nope. Not going to happen. Not on my watch. Who knows what type of communicable diseases are on that wand?
The Munch is going to live inside this plastic bubble and she is going to have a really hard time ever getting laid, and I am just fine with all of that.