I haven’t had pink eye since I was in elementary school. I should win an award for that I think. Like, hello I don’t have lice, that’s something. I’m not spreading dirty scalp vermin and nasty pink eye from person to person, and I could if I wanted. I could. I just don’t because I’m a respectable, classy lady who doesn’t carry parasites or eye gunk…until yesterday. There I was, sitting on my couch just minding my own business. Being super lazy and petting my cat while eating a bag of Doritos. When my eye started to feel real itchy, so I scratched that shit. I had no reason not to scratch it. All of a sudden my eye started to feel wrong. Like, no bottoms in the hot tub wrong. To the mirror I ran!
Sure enough, my eye was all red. For about three seconds denial overtook me and I was convinced that I had just rubbed it too hard. Yeah, that was it. That ugly bump on my eye and splotchy gross color were all from how hard I had rubbed it. Yay for denial! Satisfied, I went back to my couch, Doritos, and cat. But the pink eye would not be ignored. Soon it had crusted over and started weeping. I tried to remember what pink eye was like. Did I have pink eye? Could I still go out in public with pink eye? Was it polite to tell everyone I had pink eye? Where the hell was my etiquette book? I was sure of one thing. There was no way I was going to let my daughter know I had pink eye. I’d let the pink eye take me to Jesus before I let that happen. No damn way.
You see, when my daughter and I argue, her snappy comeback is always the same. “I’m going to fart on your pillow and give you pink eye”. I don’t know if she finally got up the guts to sneak into my room, and blast my pillow to shreds. I kind of hope not. The idea leaves me just a little afraid of my kid. Also, I don’t want to disown my child this early in life. I was saving that nugget for my deathbed. Then, there’s the retaliation that would have to follow. Who wants to explain why their kid has to miss several days of school because she has a double case of severe pink eye. Not me, and she doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. I’ve told her a million times that snitches get stitches, but she just laughs it off like I’m playing.
I am not playing.
So, I really hope it wasn’t her. I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt, but that’s not going to stop me from sneaking into her room tonight and disintegrating her Cinderella pillow beneath my butt. She gets the same odds as anybody else to NOT get pink eye, but I wouldn’t count on it. She getting pink eye.