By the pricking of my thumbs - OK Dadda fell sick on Easter Day. After crawling out of bed to make my breakfast, he went right back to sleep. I unclosed an eye at 11.45am to find him still sleeping which was highly unusual. So I asked if he wanted to go out for lunch. He muttered and grunted.
"I'm sick, mol."
Which I should have guessed. Seeing as he was sleeping. Seems he picked up the bug that's been going around. Flu, body ache, the works. So I went out and bought tom yam. Because he asked for tom yam. Vegetarian tom yam as he didn't want to wrestle with meat, not even seafood. (Ironic that Easter Day and I'm still vegetarian).
So it was a pretty dismal Easter. News that the Dadda-man was sick spread like wildfire among his siblings. Now the thing is, he's sick. He needs to sleep. So it doesn't help when I get one phone call after another asking to speak to him. I refused a few and then didn't answer the phone and considered taking it off the hook.
When someone is sick they need rest. Not twenty thousand concerned phone calls asking the same thing.
Are you OK?
Well, duh!
Obviously NOT.
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