Here are a few rules to go by in the unlikely chance your mom gets sick.
1. If she’s coughing up a lung and choking on phlegm, don’t ask for anything. She cannot assist you even if she wanted to … and chances are she doesn’t want to.
2. Meals will be on a strictly “You get what you get and you don’t pitch a fit” routine. Don’t like it? I guess you aren’t hungry enough.
3. If she’s rolling out of bed or off the couch to take your butt to or from school, you better make sure your backpack is on and your shoes are matching because your mom is not gonna care.
4. Do not ask for a playdate after you are picked up by your zombie, snotty, phlegmy, feverish, oily-faced monstrosity of a parent. The only playdates will be involving a remote control or a mouse. Sorry, kid.
5. You will see your mother take medicine. She WILL make a pinched, turning-inside-itself face. NO, you may not copy this when it’s your turn. Our medicine isn’t flavored with imitation grape or bubble gum. It resembles nothing short of donkey balls. .. or the bottom of Satan’s hoof. Our options are Robitussin or Nyquil. These flavors are used twofold- to torture POWs and also seal their cell walls. It’s that bad.
6. Keep all requests for anything from a particular room on a running list in your head. You have one chance, and one chance only to possibly have your mother get something/reach something/prepare something for you. Once she’s down, that’s it. The sun has set on your bowl of goldfish.
Disclaimer: In the unlikely event your mother does get ill, please be kind and helpful to her. There are few times we will play the “I brought you into this world” card, and this is definitely one of them, depending on the severity of vomiting/bodily fluids evacuating the body/exhaustion. This is not a drill, and the next time daddy is sick, remind him what a warrior mommy was when she had the Plague.