Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Sunday, April 3, 2011

4.1

[This was not written on the first, but it happened on the first.]

I'm sick, two hours from school, and staying in a Jamaican couple's lavishly furnished house. The house feels like the walls have been shrunk two feet, so the furniture is just a little too large. I rub vick's on my chest and go to bed. Ten minutes later, a knock comes on the door, and the wife comes in. "You have vick's?" I nod my head. The pleasant stinging covers my chest. "Yes, but here?" She pats the top of her head. I crane my neck forward to see what she's talking about and she reaches down and rubs vick's vapo-rub into my hair.

I'm not sure what it was supposed to accomplish, but I feel better. I'll just assume it was the vick's on top of my head.

3 comments:

  1. Aww, I'm glad you felt better. Are you feeling better now?

    I have never heard of putting it in one's hair, but it sounds interesting.

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  2. I'm slightly shocked . . . I'm not sure how I would react to someone rubbing vick's on my head . . . (ew!) But I guess if it works.

    I hope you start feeling better, Robby.

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  3. Wow, I can't imagine vick's on my head. Maybe I should try it next time I'm sick.

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