That Putty saved my life!

My friend is sitting here. Right next to me. Rubbing in the fact that she has silly putty and I don't. K look. There are a few things in this world I can't stand. Most of them involve people who swallow drinks really loudly (Annie. Annie. Annie. Annie), don't turn on their blinker while switching lanes. But I am bugged the most by people sitting next to me rubbing in the fact that I don't have silly putty!

I get it okay?! You're sitting over there, having fun, rolling your putty into a ball, and laughing all the while. Maybe even flattening it out and writing your name it in. Okay. You want me to say it? I'll say it.

I'M JEALOUS.

When I was 5 years old I had a fever that was unlike any fever seen before. Or it was a lot like most other fevers seen before, only this was a bit more feverish (in other words, it was a high fever)

My ma rushed me to the emergency room in our old-school Honda that didn't even have an airbag...which was the best because then I could sit in the front even though I was 5 years old...we sat in the waiting room for hours on end. I ate a 3-musketeer candy-bar. I then realized how much I hated 3-musketeer candy bars.

Seriously though. Out of all the candy bars in the vending machine I could have chosen, I chose the one that tastes like brimstone and Hobbit feet. I don't know if you've ever noticed, but during Halloween those damn candy bars are the only ones left in the bucket. Parents have to love them because that's all they have left to eat after all the little Halloween slash candy loving mongrels come and clean them out of all the other decent style candies.

TANGENT. Okay back to the story.

We finally got a room. Like my own room. Not one of those hallway beds where everyone can see what's going on in your world. If you cry, they know. If you laugh, the know! If you fart, THEY KNOW. No privacy people. None.

But I didn't have that! Nope. I was safe and secure. To fart on my own time if I so chose. I slept a lot. And my ma worried a lot. Eventually the doctor came in and said there was a possibilty that I had something called Spinal Meningitis.

For all those that don't know, that's practically when your spine decides to just up and leave the place it's suppose to be and push right up into your brain. Then all that can come of it is death. Or unhappiness. But in all honesty, to a five-year-old, all I heard was

"Jeannie. We think you have something called Merblahblahmermer."
"Coooooool"

As a result  I had to get a lumbar puncture. That's when a needle the size of a baby tree trunk gets shoved into your spine. Oh! Did I mention it's as hollow as Voldemort's heart? (was that a good analogy? Geez I hope so)

My mama told me I had to be a brave girl. Why? Well I didn't know. All I know is that my mom said if I was brave girl, then she would get me any sort of present. Anything in the land. Whatever I wanted was mine!

So what did I ask for?

Silly Putty.

The next day. After this needle of doom entered my body, I was as happy as that weird kid. (ya...that's the end of that metaphor)

Silly Putty is what I want most in this world. Always has be. Always will.

(Just a heads up for any future events where you may need to get me a present)