Chicken Soup for an Aging Patient

I can't speak for the rest of you, but being sick doesn't bring out the best in me.

For much of the weekend, I was too ill to get out of bed for NCAA basketball. My March wasn't mad, just squemish. I won't go into the details but you've been there yourself. Sort of a morning-after without any booze.

I revert back to childhood, when a sick stomach meant "soda crackers" (that's Saltines in modern language), ginger ale and chicken noodle soup (Campbell's in a can, preferably).

No other time in the year do I think about such a diet. But there I was Saturday and Sunday, sipping and chewing. And I can't stand substitutes either. Don't bring me a Sprite and expect me to be happy.

As I lay there with a cool cloth on my brow, I remembered days gone by. Oh, for the chance to miss just one more day of school. Especially if there was a test!!