One of my sons has developed a drug habit. For a little person who receives $8 per week in allowance, a $5.67 per day pill is a pretty stiff bank breaker.
Thank goodness Mom and Dad are coming to the rescue. Otherwise, said son would become a black-hooded, Bank of America robbing, 7-Eleven hijacking fool. Breaking the law all around town just so he doesn't have esophagus-ruining acid reflux.
I'm considering calling the fine folk at Astra-Zeneca and asking if they REALLY offer assistance to people who can't afford their fine assortment of drugage. I'm considering offering the story that, truly, most eight-year-olds can only afford five pills a month. And they would have no cashola left for candy or Legos. And horrible reflux the other 25 days of the month. That pretty much sucks all the fun out of being a kid. I'm sure the big, corporate giants don't want that. Do they?
Good old Mom and Dad will gladly cough up lots of moolah for our children to be pain-free. But the purple pill, in our estimation, is pretty stinkin' hard to swallow, budget-wise.*
For now, we are praying that purple really is the color of relief. Because, if it isn't, I may have to post the "leftovers" on Craig's List. Since I understand that there's a little law against this, I might get in trouble. So, if you receive a call to post bail for me, you'll know why.
And, don't worry. Once I find a buyer with raging acid reflux and cash-on-the-barrel-head, I'll be able to recoup the cost of the pills. And rightly pay you back for the mind-numbing experience of doing midnight business, on my behalf, with "Bob's Bail and Bait".
Purple's pretty, people. But ain't no way it's THAT pretty.
*And, you'll probably remember me griping, a few days back, that our pediatrician prescribed a $75/month pill. EATING.THOSE.WORDS. With a nice Chianti and a side of catsup.