I’m finally taking cough medicine for my cough. Sure, it may sound like the obvious solution, but my doctor recommended Buckleys and since Buckleys never stays down I was somewhat reluctant to give it a try. But I finally did. Let the “told you so’s” commence.
It wasn’t the doctor’s advice that convinced me. Or the dirty looks from colleagues who think I’m carrying some sort of plague. It wasn’t even the cough that woke me up in the night and drove me to my knees with lack of oxygen.
What did it take? A Lemon Fanta bribe from a friend in Europe. Thanks friend, I’ll collect in Paris.
PS. I totally got out of taking Buckleys because there is apparently a city wide shortage. I swear I had nothing to do with it. Unless I’m developing unconscious mind control powers. Less useful than conscious powers, but still pretty cool.
An ode to Lemon Fanta. (Pindarec preferably.) No that’s not strange. Lemon Fanta rocks! Join me won’t you?
Of tree there is not better kind,
Than that which bears of yellow rind.
Alone among your seeded fellow, do you resist the common sweet.
Move not good tree to change your art,
I love your fruit, sour and tart.
NB. This poem may be the cough medicine talking. I take no responsibility.