It was only a dream...

For the last week or so, I've been fighting a sore throat. It still hasn't materialized into a full-blown yuck, but I've been a bit crunchy and tired since it began. Yesterday, though, A started to feel as if he'd been hit by a truck. Scratchy throat, body aches, chills, the whole nine yards. I kept him home from school today, and brought him to the doctor just to make sure it's not strep or something equally craptastic.

While we were there, I told our (incredibly hot) doctor the whole story. He asked why I hadn't come in myself, and I explained I didn't feel as bad as A....blah blah blah. He looked at me knowingly, frowned rather sympathetically, and nodded.

At least it looked like sympathy. Maybe empathy. Or understanding.

Yeah, no.

Turns out he thinks I'm a crack whore. Or an alcoholic. Or at least some kind of hopeless addict.

The nice doctor said he was going to prescribe A some cough medicine with codeine, just in case. I thought, "Sweet! Codeine! That's always a good thing to have around the house. You know, just in case."

I picked it up from Walgreens, threw it on the kitchen table, and didn't think of it again until just now. As I was straightening up the house before bed, I grabbed the bottle to bring upstairs. Just out of curiosity, I read the label...and was horrified. I swear to God, it says:

Give "A" 2 teaspoonsful by mouth every 4 to 6 hours as needed for cough. No refills. Do not drink alcoholic beverages while taking this medication.

Yes, his name was in quotes. I'm guessing there was some winking and nudging involved too, but I can't be certain. Suddenly, I'm thinking about pulling an Elaine Benes and demanding to see what he has written on my chart.

Hell, what do I care? I have codeine. See you in January, suckers...