A Wickedly Wise Prescription For All The Winters Of Your Life

Gather round, kiddies, and I will share this never-fail prescription. Frankly it's one you intuitively knew as a child every time mom put you to bed when you were sick and had to miss school.

Please tell me you can still recall the delicious sound of those words? Those times of cosmic perfection when you were just sick enough for mom to keep you safe from the rigors of the classroom, but not so sick that you couldn't enjoy snuggling into your bed to be majestically served hot tea, crackers, and mom's extraordinary, cholesterol-rich chicken soup.

It was infinitely secure inside those fussed-over pillows and covers. The world -- especially your insidious math teacher -- couldn't reach you here. Nor could the bullies in the schoolyard, nor the chores dad had assigned you. Instead, you were tucked in your very own castle of comfort where you could nap, dream, watch television, read comic books, and in general become the master of all you could survey [including your annoying siblings].

Now see, here's the big thing about those unexpected sick-days. You may not have yet understood all the pressures awaiting your approaching adulthood, but somehow you sensed these sick days, hidden under your blanket and served by your mother, were to be among the last such days you would be allowed on this earth.

So...as a wickedly wise prescription from one aging kid to another, let me give you some advice. On some future winter morning -- when the world, the flesh and the devil out there are piling up on you --don't get out of that bed. Don't get washed and dressed. Don't drag your weary self back into the battlefields of life. Instead, pull up those covers and tell yourself: "I shall remain hidden from the world this day, and no one shall be allowed to hurt me!"

If mom or wife or partner are there with some chicken soup, all the better!

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