The Human Life of Misha Hhrrru? ep. 7.

January 7.

I am Misha. I am 7. It’s Monday. I hate Mondays, but today is a very good day. Well okay, besides that I’m sick. But if I wasn’t sick, it wouldn’t be a good day, because I would have to go to school.

My best friend Feluś came to me for the weekend, for two sleeps, and we had lots of fun. I’ve got skates for Christmas from my parents and am still learning how to iceskate. So yesterday we both went to the rink, because Feluś can skate a little bit too, my dad took us, and we were skating. But it was frrrrreezing! And I didn’t want to take my hat with me, because I don’t like it. It’s gross. I wanted to go out without it but mum started yelling “Misha! Misha! Take your hat with you or your ears will fall off!”. But that hat is really awful and cringey and the last time I wore it to school a few boys were laughing at me that I look like an idiot in it and asked me whether my granny crocheted it for me. Mum says I look cute, but Mum always says I look cute, so I think they know better, this time at least. So I just pretended I couldn’t hear her. It was really cold and my ears did feel like they wanted to fall off, but they didn’t and I was brave and tried not to show how cold I was, though dad said my ears were very red and if I wanted to go home. Of course I didn’t. I like iceskating, you know? I am getting better at it. I am still a little bit unsteady but I don’t fall as often as I used to. It’s a lot of fun. I’m sure that soon I’ll be able to iceskate as fast and smoothly as my mum. Feluś fell once and hurt his knee, and looked as if he wanted to cry, but he was brave too, and didn’t. Luckily nothing bad happened to his knee, it was only a bit bruised, but I’m sure it must have hurt him a lot. I wouldn’t laugh if he cried, or call him a cry baby, as some other nasty people do. So yeah, we had lots of fun, and then when we came back mum said that we looked all blue from cold so she made us a bubble bath, and we were making soap bubbles and were splashing at each other. In the evening I was very tired and went to bed just after we watched some telly and Feluś’s grandma came to take him. I was exhausted.
I had a long dream, in which I was skating, all happy, and then suddenly I saw a big monster, who started to pull my ears, and drag me around the iceskate so very, very fast, and I was scared. He was whirling around with me and I screamed and cried, and then I couldn’t keep up anymore and fell down, and he was still dragging me around on my knees, and I had such large, disgusting bruises on them. I woke up and it was still dark, my ears were hurting, my throat was hurting and my head was hurting, and I couldn’t swallow, and I was so cold that I shook like a leaf. A lonely leaf. A lonely leaf always shakes more because he doesn’t have other leaves to keep him warm. And I always say that I’m lonely as a leaf, and everyone says it’s strange, because leaves are always in a bunch, even when they fall. But when most of the leaves on a tree fall, sometimes one stays and is the last to fall. And sometimes when the leaves fall, the wind will take one away from all the other leaves. Is it strange to feel lonely as a leaf? So I was shaking as a leaf, and I wanted to call mum, to close my window, I thought it was open because it was so cold, and I didn’t want to get up because it was just too cold and I was too tired. But I was too hoarse to call her, and it was so dark that I thought she must be sleeping. I raised up in bed and saw that the window was closed, and mum even put a blanket over me. I pulled it closer so that I was almost all hidden under it, and soon I fell asleep again. The next time I woke up it was very light and I could hear some papers rustling in mum’s study, and when I called her she came to me immediately. “Mum? I feel sick, I can’t go to school.” – I screeched. – “No, don’t worry, you won’t. It’s noon already. I was trying to wake you up in the morning but you wouldn’t even move. The next time you go iceskating you will put your hat on, won’t you?” “No, because it’s ugly.” – I said, and felt so happy that I don’t have to go to school.
I don’t feel well, my ears are throbbing and snotting every 5 seconds but at least I can do my plast plast thingy. Plast plast is how I call arts – painting and drawing and modelling and cutting and gluing and all that. – I love plast plast! Mum went out to the shops. I’m lucky because our family doctor isn’t at work today, so I didn’t have to go see him, will do tomorrow! Or maybe he’s sick too? I hate going to doctors, I almost never have to. I don’t like the smells in there, and people coughing and sneezing all around me, and the doctor putting that stick in my mouth, eww. And I hate medicines. Mum only gives me vitamin C now, it’s good because it’s fizzy and doesn’t taste too gross, but she says I’ll probably have to stay at home for a week, and take a lot of medicines. The first thing is great, the latter is horrible. It’s also a pity that I can’t play with Feluś. Actually, who invents illnesses and why? I would like to know. I’ve always wanted to be a painter when I grow up, but if I could be both a painter and an inventor, I’d like that. Then I’d invent such an illness that would last very long, and everyone would see straight away that you’re ill so you wouldn’t have to stick your tongue or measure your temperature, they’d just know, so you wouldn’t have to go to school or work, but you would feel well, or only a little little bit sick, so you can go out to play and have adventures, bruise your knees or do whatever you want and no one can tell you that you can’t. You just can’t do things that you don’t like and talk to people you don’t like because then you will infect them and they will have it too, you only want to infect nice people.
The worst thing is that when someone in our house is ill, either dad or me, mum gives us loads of veggies, and I hate them. And my mum isn’t a good cook, so things are always over- or undercooked. But I’ll deal with that somehow, though I am not hungry at all today because it hurts when I swallow and mum has to force me to eat and everything tastes so icky. At least she lets me play on the computer and do as much plast plast as I want and as I can in between having to snot, even with her things. Sometimes it’s very pleasant to be sick.