Last week The Munch had a fever of 104 for days. So I did what any caring parent would do. Let her watch TV for 15 hours a day as I continued living my life. She wasn’t complaining about melting her brain with Barbie shows, so why should I?
After about 5 straight days of The Munch infiltrating her mind with Netflix shows, and whatever else she found on Youtube – including accidently stumbling onto some KKK rallies while looking for Katy Perry – I knew I had to intervene. When I am sick, I see it as a sign from the universe that I have to re-examine my life. It’s a time of self-reflection where I stare into the mirror and ask myself the tough questions like, “is that mole growing?” I figured that maybe The Munch wasn’t getting any better because she was distracting herself with media rather than diving into the waves of her consciousness.
Toni: Okay Munch, today is a day with no screens.
Munch: Why? I don’t feel good.
Toni: We have to get you better that’s why. You have hardly eaten in days. You’re getting so skinny! Granted your runway ready, but…
Munch: I don’t want to do anything but lay here and watch things! I don’t FEEL LIKE PLAYING!
Toni: I know. But maybe part of why you don’t feel good is because you’re spending all your time watching things and not facing the part of yourself that doesn’t make you feel good.
She looked at me with annoyed eyes.
Munch: Then you’re hanging out with me all day.
Toni: That’s exactly my plan.
Munch: Well what do you want to do? I’m bored.
Toni: I think we should spend some time doing a meditation to try and uncover what is it about your life that’s not working. Or what emotional issue you have to address.
Munch: NOOOOOO!!! I DON’T WANT TO DO THAT!
Toni: Munch there has to be a lesson buried in this? Is it me? Am I the problem? Is it something about a past life?
Munch: I JUST DON’T FEEL GOOD AND I DON’T WANT TO DO ANYTHING!
Toni: Munch, your mind has great power! Do you want me to tell you some stories about when I was sick and I used my mind to help me heal?
Munch: Fine.
Toni: Okay so remember how the doctor had told me I would never have babies?
Munch: AHHHHHH! I don’t want to hear this story! I JUST WANT TO FEEL BETTER!
Toni: Yes! I want you to feel better too! So let’s do a guided meditation to help your mind make your body better!
Munch: NO!!!!!
The Munch glared at me with an expression that read, fuck your hippy bullshit.
Toni: Okay. Maybe we try that later. But I think watching TV for a week straight has potentially obliterated your personality.
Munch: I don’t care.
Toni: How about we read a book?
I picked Charlotte’s Web, forgetting that the goddamn eclipse had pulled out of me a menstruation from another dimension from planet Gaia. The PMS I was experiencing was not only cosmic, but also torn from the fabric of the menses multiverse. My uterine lining was shedding into the space-time continuum, rocketing my emotions through the dark matter that envelops us.
Toni: “I’m less than two months old and I’m tired of living,” said Wilbur.
Munch: Mama are you crying?
Toni: I can’t help it Munch. This book is so sad.
Munch: Well stop reading it if it’s gonna make you cry.
Toni: No. It’s a classic. Let’s continue.
But I couldn’t stop weeping.
Toni: “When I’m out here, there’s no place to go but in. When I’m indoors there’s no place to go but out in the yard.”
Munch: Mamma you’re still crying!
Toni: God it’s so tragic! The futility of existence!
We made it half way through the book when The Munch decided I needed a break. I made her go outside, and she hid under a blanket. We cuddled, we talked, and we sat, staring at nothing. This is hard for a work-a-holic manic personality like me, but I knew it was what Munch needed. To just spend a quite day with nothing but my attention so that at the end of it… I break down her inhibitions and annoyance and force her to do a guided meditation with me.
Toni: Okay close your eyes and we’ll get your mind all strong and ready to help your body.
Munch: Fine. I’m ready.
And wouldn’t you know it… SHE WAS FUCKING BETTER THE NEXT DAY!
Not interested in my bullshit
Getting “fresh air” from under the blanket
