I Poisoned My Brother
It's with a heavy heart that I inform you that the aforementioned brother is now deceased. He died in my a most horrible way. You are all cordially invited to the funeral.
Nah. Just kidding. He is--sadly--still very much alive--even if he is suffering from a slightly upset stomach.
It wasn't intentional--I swear. It began purely as an act of unwarranted mercy. It began like this:-
A couple of nights ago the clock turned midnight. All was quite and not a mouse was stirring. Then Josh came out of the lounge room where he'd just finished watching the directors commentary on the LOTRs. He said 'hello' in an octave too loud and my darling little baby who was sleeping contentedly on the back step perked up her ears thinking, "Yay, Mummy is awake." She proceeded to send up a racket loud enough to be heard in NSW.
Josh growled. "Lyd, won't you feed her!"
"Why should I? You're the one that woke her up."
"My liver hurts." Josh pressed his hand over his lower left rib cage in a gesture probably ment to invoke great sympathy. I had none. It was his fault that he'd eaten those cheap lollies full of sellable poison earlier.
"So."
"Lyd, feed her!"
"No."
"She's giving me a headache."
"Ok, I'll feed her if you'll drink a cup of warm water with baking soda in it." I had previously had an enlightening conversation with my dear mother who had imparted on me the following wisdom: "Norm Grey (our previous doctor) once told me that if you're having trouble with your liver to drink a cup of warm water with epsom salts. It'll flush your liver right out." That's what she said, but midnight fatigue does funny things to my memory and I somehow had baking soda on the brain. Epsom salts...baking soda? It all sounded quite plausible and it appeared to be a great opportunity to show off my medical knowledge and cure his problem all in one hit. I added just to make sure he'd follow through, "I dare you."
I watched him guzzle a cloudy cup of water, fed my baby, and promptly went to bed.
I had no idea what then ensured until the next morning when my mother greeted me. She said none of the usual pleasantries. "Oh, darling daughter how you do light up my day." or even the more subdued, "Good morning." She gaped at me a moment and stated quite emphatically, "Lyd, baking soda makes you throw up!"
I blinked. I wasn't expecting this kind of news on an empty stomach. "What helps your liver then?"
"Epsom Salts!"
"Oh."
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