Shit on my hands

BB

Hand, foot, and mouth disease. Slapped cheek virus. Kawaski Syndrome. Epiglottitis. There’s a whole world of fruity diseases out there that most of us are blissfully ignorant of until we come into close contact with small children. Don’t be fooled by their fun, wacky names; these illnesses have the power to send you running headlong into the nearest firy pit.  Sadly, Northcote is apparently quite free of active volcanoes, so I’ve had no choice but to endure the fragile emotions of a two year old with burning red blisters inside her mouth. So all consuming is this turd of a virus that when I encountered potential new neighbours on the stairs, my greeting consisted of ‘hey, are you the new tenants? No, but you’re applying for it? I’m Jess. This is Clementine. We have hand, foot and mouth disease. Don’t come too close (they weren’t) Good luck!’   Now, make no mistake, I say stupid, uncomfortable, uninteresting things on a daily,nay, HOURLY, basis, but this one had me blushing longer than usual: if their faces had simply registered dumbfounded horror, that I could have coped with; more troubling to me were their looks of utter disinterest, their sideways glances unmistakably conveying the thought ‘oh fuck, SHE would be our neighbour’ . And the reason I was troubled is because it IS a bore, and it’s my LIFE. Coping with sick children, particularly as a single parent, is far and away the most soul-sucking, ‘what-have-I-done-to-deserve-this-why-didn’t-I-get-another-Burmese- instead?’ aspect of child rearing. If you’’re not one of the beautiful few blessed with endless supplies of patience and goodwill, then no matter how voluminous and far-reaching your love for your child is, you are going to go quite festively bonkers. I used to sit in harsh judgment of parents who dropped their kids at daycare when they were clearly flush with a merry dose of Griddlebog sprotitis or whatever variation of the Coxsackie Virus (see, I can still squeeze a dick joke in even when the topic is childhood illness, and yes,Coxscakie is a real virus) was doing the rounds that week, but now I simply sigh grimly in resignation and understanding. Heinous viruses are standard issue in childhood, as ubiquitous as supermodels in Roxy Music videos, as strident in their mission to reach the masses as a Mormons on speedballs, and as likely to induce temporary (fingers crossed) insanity in parents as a tender massage using sulphuric acid. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!