ode to the thermometer

 

Do you have some item in your house that always seems to disappear when you need it?  I don’t know what it is but I can NEVER find a working thermometer.  I still take temperatures under the arm and to come upon a thermometer that “tests” long enough under the arm is a precious find in my house.  Not to mention the number of thermometers that have been broken or were too cheap to actually work more than a couple times.

 

Last Sunday night, Sweet Boy was sick, obviously with fever and I could not find our red thermometer.  The red thermometer is the only one that currently works.  I remembered seeing it when I cleaned out my bathroom cupboard just a few weeks ago.  But, I also remember saying yes to Sweet Girl when she asked to take her teddy’s temperature.  My mistake!  I searched her purses, her drawers, her boxes . . . nothing.  She told me she’d tell me where it was when she finished eating her dinner.  But after dinner, I learned that she had no clue.  Well, she’s three.

 

So, I ventured out on Sunday evening to Walmart to buy a new thermometer.  And on the way, I started writing this poem about my grief surrounding thermometers.  But I couldn’t leave it there, so the other day I sat down and finished it.  Because after all, who doesn’t have time on their hands to write an ode to the thermometer?  

 

Without further ado . . .

 

ODE TO THE THERMOTER

 

Oh Thermometer

How much I dislike thee

I would use stronger language*

If my child weren’t with me.

 

You’re impossible to find

At the moment I need you

Sick child in bed

Does this feel like a re-do?

 

I know it was her

Who saw you the last

When poor teddy was ill

As the doctor she passed.

 

So off to the store

I will now have to run

To buy number six

To be lost? …Ten to one!

 

Mercury is gone

I say with relief

But the options abound

Oh my and good grief!

 

Try the forehead

No, please try the ear

Or under the tongue

Just not you know where

 

Success!  I bought two

And home now I’ll head

To tend to my baby

And lay down in bed.

 

* I am referring to the word “hate.”  🙂

My hope for you is that you never lose your thermometer and feel the need to write about it.  But if you do, please share.

~Kristen