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2 DU with Flu

by Fredrich Mohre

I went to work the other day,
With a hundred-four fever, I would say.
My boss says, “I think what’s best for you
Is go home and rest a day or two.”
So I drove home, to lay down a spell.
My brain was cooked, I felt like…well
You know, a fever and racking cough.
Just crawled in bed to sleep it off.

I start to rest, to some degree,
When my wife comes in to talk to me.
“I know you’re ailing with the flu,
But I’m sure there’s a few things you can do.
Now since you’re home, I do insist
You catch up on your TO Do List”
‘But honey, ….you know I’m really shot.
My fever’s up…my forehead’s hot.’

She said, “I’m sure you’ll find some energy
to give a little help to me.
You ain’t as sick as you put on…
So please get up and mow the lawn.”
So I get up and cut the grass.
(Just to make the conflict pass.)
Then with fever in my head,
I drag my body back to bed.

I laid there for half an hour,
When in walks my higher power.
“I know you think you’re comatose,
But clean the driveway with the hose.”
‘But hon…I think I got the flu,
There’s not a lot that I can do.’
“It’s not been cleaned for several weeks,
It’ll put some color in your cheeks.”

“Then cut those trees down in the back,
And please repair my laundry rack,”
‘But hon…I’m sick..It’s really true.’
“The fresh air will be good for you.”
So I cleaned the driveway best I could,
And chopped them trees to firewood.
The rack, I fixed, so she’s not mad…..
(By now, I’m feeling REALLY bad.)

So I drink a cup of herbal tea,
Then pull the blankets over me.
When in walks, well, you know who….
Says, “babes..I got a job for you.”
“Go clean those gutters, like you should.”
‘ But honey…I don’t feel so good..’
“You’ll get some sun and you’ll improve.”
‘I don’t think that I can move….”

So I get up and climb the ladder,
Just so she won’t get any madder.
I cleaned those gutters, nice and neat.
(I know I’m dying on my feet.)
Then to the bedroom I retire,
My body aches, I’m all on fire.
My temperature must be one-o-five,
It’s a miracle that I’m still alive.

My wife comes in, gives me a hug.
“You know that drain hole still needs dug?”
‘But honey..I sick as I can be…
This day of rest is killing me……’
“Now get out there, and please don’t pout.
Some good hard work will sweat it out.”
‘But honey….I’m one big body ache…’
“This shovel should make your fever break.”

I staggered out, though not inclined,
And dug that hundred foot of line.
Then with pain down to my toes,
I climbed in to my working clothes.
Jumped in my car, to drive to work.
(My wife had thought I’d gone berserk.)
“Please stay home, you know you’re sick,
Don’t rush off to work so quick.”

I said, ‘You’re right…as right can be…
But your cure for flu is killing me.
Cause one more day of this” I said.
“I’m pretty sure that I’ll be dead”
So if you’re ailing with the flu,
I think it’s best to take my cue.
Don’t be too quick to stay home sick.
Insure her list ain’t piled too thick………

For she’ll insist that what you’ve missed,
What’s to do’s now due, on your To-Do-List

01/01/2003

Posted on 04/14/2005
Copyright © 2024 Fredrich Mohre

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Charlie Morgan on 04/14/05 at 09:16 PM

...ahhh, fredrich, man-o-man, you and denny [king of limericks] just slay me...love this, as i do all yours i read, little diatribe to you-know-whooooweee, are we in trouble now...nahahahahaha...lovely, lovely the way you play with words...peace, chaz

Posted by Anne Engelen on 04/15/05 at 04:34 PM

OMG, you never fail to make laugh. i love the flow and the rhyhm.

Posted by Mary Ellen Smith on 04/17/05 at 01:10 PM

Another too funny slice of life here...love it!

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