The Sock, The Sick Cup, and The Pail

I haven't posted on here in approximately 10 years (6, but who's counting!) and in that time all five of The Howards have gone through tremendous changes - graduations, jobs, houses, vacations, pet adoptions, etc. etc.! Literally so much to write about! However, rather than focus on just updating everyone who reads this (Hi Mom!) on our lives, I thought I would just from time to time share some fun Howard Family memories.

Please enjoy my ramblings on tonight's topic...being sick.

It's cold season. Sinus infections, coughing fits, runny noses...you name it. Last week my sister and I were on the phone talking about how she couldn't shake the cough she had. She was trying all the tricks: gargling, neti pot, cough syrup. So I said, "I know what you need...The Sock." "Ahhhh not the sock!" she replied. "Yes. The. Sock."

Some families have a special recipe for chicken noodle soup, or maybe a remedy for a blend of tea...but The Howards? We have a sock.

It wasn't just any sock. No, this sock lived in infamy for over two decades (please remember that there are 16 years between my brother and me). This sock survived 5 moves, 35+ winters, countless cycles in the wash...and many a gross night being wrapped around the infirmed person's neck.

Once a simple, noble tube sock with a red stripe at the top, it likely started its journey to become "The Sock" as an occupant of the illustrious sock box (a bin of mismatched socks). Having lost its mate months (years) prior, it sat abandoned in this box until Julie selected it and gave it new purpose in life.

"Yes, this will do." She must have thought, while testing its elasticity.


Photo of The Sock in its current state...it lives in Mom's dresser for safe keeping.

The Sock of course, was nothing without the key ingredient...Vicks VapoRub (Editor's note: I totally thought it was called "Vick's Vapor Rub"...thanks Google!) The coughing, congested victim child would get ready for bed...picking out "an old shirt" with a stretched out neck to wear for pajamas ("paJAMas" - Mom "paJAHmas" - Dad). Then Mom would come in with the Vicks and...The Sock.
 

The Vicks (having been heated up/melted into liquid in a saucepan on the stove) was then applied generously right in the little divot in your neck. I am literally gagging at the memory of the smell of it. Then, The Sock (also having been heated up...in the dyer maybe?) was wrapped menacingly lovingly around your neck and tied in a knot. You were forced compelled to wear the sock all night as you attempted to sleep amid the stench of the Vicks and the restricted feeling of an old tube sock tied in a knot (or safety pinned - please see the pin sticking out of The Sock in the photo above) around your neck.

What purpose did The Sock actually serve? Was it to stop the kid from touching the Vicks spot? Why did it always feel so wet and gross? Was it actually dipped in the Vicks stuff too? Is this why I have such a strong aversion to turtlenecks?! So. Many. Questions.

However, the most important question is...did it work?

The answer: I 100% saw Mom wearing The Sock last winter. And that truly sums up this part of the post.

*Editor's note: I googled "Vicks VapoRub sock" while researching to write this blog (Yes, I research. Yes, I am a nerd. I embrace this.) and apparently it is totally a thing that people do! EXCEPT they put the Vicks on the soles of feet and then socks on feet - NOT on their neck. Perhaps this got lost in translation being passed down in our family! Also, after Mom and Dad read this they told me that both of their mothers did this when they were kids.

Colds are child's play when it comes to sickness. Throw up - or "boof" as it was referred to growing up - is the grand daddy of all sickness.

*Editor's note: we were not allowed to say puke or barf...fun fact - my 3rd grade teacher also did not allow the word puke. I remember having to raise my hand saying "So and so is about to vomit" ew...and that powder they used to just sprinkle on the carpet after someone puked in elementary school! Does anyone remember that?! So gross. Also, sorry Kavanaugh, but "boof" is not flatulence...that's "ferfing" - yes ferf. Fart was not allowed when I was growing up either. This will obviously be another blog post in the future.

All Howard children spent a night or seven throwing up due to the flu (or greasy meatloaf, or eating the stale sour cream and onion Pringles meant for the ducks...while on the way to feed the ducks even after being warned NOT to eat them - true story, I was a piggy) and getting sick in our house meant access to several things:

1. a wet washcloth
2. The Cup 
3. warm ginger ale
4. The Pail

The wet washcloth is pretty self-explanatory and practical. It was applied to your forehead and/or back of neck. The Cup, however, is another Howard Family Legend. Sadly, the cup was thrown out in a kitchen cupboard purge circa 2010 but it lived a good life. 

Not just any cup, The Cup was a remnant of the 80's Tupperware Party Days. It was a puke boof colored green juice cup that was part of a set. 

GOOGLE IMAGES FOR THE WIN!!! This set is totally listed on Etsy right now, HA!!

However, something special happened to our dear friend green cup...he spent a little too much time in a saucepan on the stove. The bottom had sort of a puddle shape where the cup had melted down into itself. This was also the fate of his friend brown cup (who was not part of the sick ritual, interesting! Note to self - ask Mom why only the green cup was placed into this special service). Google came up short here because most normal people THROW OUT things like this not keep them in the cupboard for multiple decades. Anyway, The Cup then was used exclusively for times of sickness. One lucky parent would stay with us in the bathroom as the vomiting continued, while the other parent went to get us The Cup from the kitchen. 

First used to swish out your mouth with water, The Cup would later be filled with #3 from the list above...warm ginger ale. The taste of throw up is almost synonymous with warm ginger ale in my brain. The thing is, we rarely to never had soda in the house, so I can only assume that the second one of us was sick, Dad would rush to the store to grab a two liter of ginger ale. And it had to be served warm (room temperature)...to not upset our already upset stomachs?!

Sure that the vomiting stage had passed, Mom and Dad would get you set up in your bedroom - cue wet washcloth, cup of warm ginger ale...and the final piece of the vomit puzzle, The Pail.

Lined with a Wegman's bag, The Pail kept a steady vigil at your bedside. As all other sacred objects in this post, it began its life serving another purpose. It was initially a run of the mill bathroom garbage can that didn't make the cut when the bathroom was repainted. It spent many a night with all three of us Howard children, waiting patiently to serve in our hour of need. I am happy to report that The Pail still resides upstairs in my parents' home. She is contentedly living out her days as a paper waste receptacle in an upstairs bedroom.

The Pail in her current habitat.

I was rarely sick as a kid, I missed Kindergarten for one day (Chickenpox), from 1st-6th grade I had perfect attendance (so I guess the Vicks Sock DID work!) and maybe just a handful of sick days throughout middle and high school. I attribute this to the loving care I received from my parents...my extreme stubbornness, and my unapologetic love of academics. (NERD). But what I'm really trying to say, is that I'm grateful my family has these quirky sick-time tricks. 

I was lucky to grow up in a family that cared enough to tie a gross wet and warmed sock around my neck or run out to buy room temp ginger-ale to serve in a castoff Tupperware juice cup.

I hope you were too.