My Friend and Cohort

Over the last few days I have been heavily influenced by my good friend and cohort, streptococcus pyogenes. Good ole strep is not really the kind of friend who digs intellectually stimulating conversations. He is more like the kind who likes to take you out all night drinking and pick fights with the local biker gangs. As a result, I have spent the last few days glued to either the couch or my bed. And while I usually rather enjoy these places of fine comfort, I have to admit I'm going a little stir crazy. Because my throat feels like it has shrunk to the size of a safety pin, I can't say I have been able to carry on a conversation recently. Although attempting conversation with the sales people who call incessantly has been fairly amusing. When I try to muster up all my energy to allow a coherent noise to roll out of my mouth, I usually fail. So the conversation starts....

Me: "Hello"
Salesperson: "Is your mom or dad home?"

At this point I could turn this into some real fun...

Me: "I'm the lady of the house here. Don't you be disrespecting me. I'm just sick, that's all. I answered the phone cause I thought it'd be my husband with the good stuff. But as usual he is late. That lying, cheating, son of a..."
Salesperson: "I'll call back at a better time."

But instead I usually just tell the truth...

Salesperson: "Is your mom or dad home?"
Me: "No"
Salesperson: "Do you know when they'll be in?"
Me: "What do I know? I just work here."