A Lyrical Interlude

I wrote "musical" first, but since I have no music, we'll call this a lyrical interlude.

The other day, I forgot to mention something about the doctor appointment Monday. The doctor gave us (well, sold to me, for a lot of money) a new fish oil Omega 3 supplement to use instead of my beloved Coromega. (Seriously, Coromega is good! I like it, the boys like it, it doesn't taste like fish. It tastes like orange pudding with a hint of chocolate. Yum.) So, Thursday morning, I took out the new fish oil to add a 1/2 teaspoonful to Hutton's orange juice. As soon as I opened the bottle, the overwhelming odor of fish came out. I felt like I was at the aquarium at feeding time. I carefully measured out a 1/2 teaspoon, but still got oil on the counter and my hands. I wiped off the bottle, then wrapped it in more paper towels to put in the fridge, so it wouldn't get more fish oil everywhere. I tried a sip of Hutton's juice to see if I could taste the oil. I couldn't, but Hutton didn't drink his juice, and I figured out why: there was an oil slick on top of the juice after a few minutes, emitting the fish smell. Yuck! After dumping his undrunk juice, I noticed there was a tiny bit of oil left in the measuring cup. I wondered just how bad this new oil would taste. It was lemon flavor, after all.

It was bad. I had a drop of oil on my tongue and immediately started gagging. Fortunately I hadn't eaten my cereal yet, so there was nothing to come up, but if I had...However, after ingesting a single drop of fish oil and handling the bottle, I smelled fishy for hours. Hand washing and tooth brushing did nothing.

This was Thursday morning. Thursday is speech therapy. So, Tuesday morning I went to speech therapy smelling like perfume and B.O., and Thursday, it's fish.

So, without further ado, your lyrics. These are to the tune of the Police song, "Don't Stand So Close to Me" and from the viewpoint of Hutton's speech therapists.

Young[ish] mother, the subject
Of speech therapists' dread
She comes in twice weekly
Think they are all inbred
Her breath stinks of coffee
Must drink it all day long
Hey lady, heard of breath mints?
You'll need five for a stench that strong

Don't talk, don't talk so
Don't talk so close to me
Don't talk, don't talk so
Don't talk so close to me

Then Tuesday, she came in
Wreaking of bad perfume
I think that I could smell it
Before she hit the room
And yet it got worse still
When I smelled the B.O.
I wanted to yell out,
Oh God, please let me go!

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

It's Thursday, she enters
Today the odor's fish
Come on do people really
Have that for a breakfast dish?
I think I'll give up now
Her son is nice enough
But having to talk to Mama
Is getting way too tough

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

~~~~~~~~~~~~
I haven't thrown the new fish oil away yet, but Thursday during Hutton's therapy session, Harrison and I bought a big box of Coromega at Super Supplements. I really don't like to torture my children or myself. Or those around us, either.