Ugh. I woke up today with a sore throat and body aches comparable to the pain from Swedish massage gone wrong. Not that I've ever had one but I can only imagine after having read this story.

I feel like a steaming pile of crap with an emphasis on the steaming aspect, as I'm pretty sure I have a fever. I'm flushed, sweaty, and entirely glowing way too much for it to be considered sexy. It looks like nuclear fission is occuring in my molecules and it's just ugly. Ugly-sexy. I like that. I'm the true epitome of a hot mess.

For whatever reason, I usually like to take my temperature when I'm feeling down. I think it's the ultimate validation that yes world, I am sick. Listen here everyone, my body is one step closer to death and I deserve unwavering sympathy from all those in my household. The magical little cells in my body are fighting a civil war in order to protect me from impending doom.

Anyhoo, we have a community digital thermometer that Taters has also taken a liking too. She regularly takes her temperature whenever she feels a bit off, and then tries to finagle a way out of going to school due to a spike or rapid lowering of her temperature. It usually doesn't work so well for her but I give her an "A" for her medical effort.

Today I decided to break out the trustworthy thermometer and asked Taters where she had last left it. Of course, she knew the hidden location of her favorite medical tool and brought it to me with a smile. She loves playing nurse and I normally just go along with it. It buys me more time in bed when I just wanna die.

As I powered it up and prepared to plop it in my mouth, she and I casually chatted about what my possible ailment might be. My head was pounding but I appreciated her devotedness to my well being.

Taters: You know Mom, it's probably a virus. Those are the worse kinds to get.
Mommazilla: Maybe, but it's probably just a cold. I'm impatiently waiting for the thermometer to power up and give me the appropriate sequence of "I'm ready for your ick mouth" beeps.
Taters: Mom, have you thought about trying to take your temperature in your armpit?
Mommazilla: Not really thinking about her question because the stupid thermometer is taking way too long. Nah, I'll just do it the old fashioned way. You're 'sposed to add or take away a degree if you stick it in your pit, and my mind is not capable of simple math right now.
Taters: Oh, o.k. It's pretty easy to do if you wanna. It doesn't tickle too bad.
Mommazilla: I'm good, kiddo. Plus, this is the thermometer everyone sticks in their mouths. I don't think you guys wanna taste my armpit.

The dang thermometer is still giving me grief as of this point and I automatically begin to shake it. Remembering that it's not the good old mercury filled piece of heaven, I press the button again and begin grumbling. Perhaps it was operator error or maybe, just maybe, a higher power was looking out for me, as Taters stops me with this comment:

Taters: Looking rather amused.... Oops! That's funny mom! I've always stuck it in my armpit. But don't worry, I taste deelishaasshh!!

I hand the thermometer back to Taters and tell her I'm suddenly feeling a little better. If I can muster up the energy to bathe tomorrow, we'll be going to Walgreens to buy a "mouth only" thermometer. Gross. At least it never made its way into the threshold of my mouth.