The Very Hungry Caterpillar

In the light of the moon a thirty something mother of three lay in her warm, cosy bed.

One Saturday morning (after rocking out to Kelly Clarkson the previous evening) the not very warm sun came up and – ‘Urgh’ – out of bed came a hungover and altogether poorly individual.

She started to look for some food, paracetamol and caffeine.

At breakfast she ate through one bowl of Kelloggs’ Superfruity.  But she was still hungry (and feeling decidedly ropey).

At lunch time she ate through a bacon, tomato and mushroom sandwich.  But she was still hungry (and starting to feel feverish).

At tea time she ate through her own body weight in chicken, olives, halloumi cheese and crusty bread.  But she was still hungry (with chest pains and shivering like a good ‘un – enough to put her off drinking wine for the entire evening.  I know).

On Sunday morning she ate through some crumpets.  But she was still hungry (with a sore throat and earache to boot).

On Sunday teatime she ate through a full roast dinner and some sticky toffee pudding.  But she was still hungry (but at least not as tired after a two hour kip in the afternoon).

On Sunday evening (during the X Factor results show) she ate through one crisp sandwich…and then another crisp sandwich, some cheese, some crackers, some grapes, a yoghurt and drank some wine (against her better judgement).  That night she had a stomachache!

The next day was Monday.  Feeling rough as a bear’s a**e the woman ate through half a banana (it was all she could manage) but, to be honest, didn’t feel better in the least.

Now she wasn’t hungry anymore – but she wasn’t fighting her germs off, either.  She was a big, bloated, phlegmy, snot-nosed, red-eyed, trembling, bacteria ridden, lurgy monster.

She climbed into bed (after her husband kindly offered to work from home) and wrapped the duvet around herself like a cocoon. She stayed inside for more than five hours. Then she peeped out from under her pillow, forced herself to get up and…

She was a beautiful…No, wait a minute.  Bugger. Rather than the lithe limbed, perky breasted, firm bottomed, smooth skinned beauty she had been hoping for, she was still ‘blessed’ with laughter lines, a crinkly stomach, boobs round her knees and a cluster of grey hairs.

Oh, and she still felt like death warmed up.  Double bugger 🙂