When I was wee small, taking medicine was a complete chore (for my mum at least). It involved wrestling me down to the floor, using her legs to pin my chest down and then forcing that horrible syrup into my mouth.
Then the doctors deemed me old enough for pills and boy were they a wonder. I pop one after the other and marvelled at how easy the process was and why hadn't this miracle happen sooner in my life. Non-drowsy? Heh.. No way! *pop pop* To be taken on a full stomach? Who cares?! *pop pop*
Now at the ripe old age of 29, that same fearlessness has once again left me? To be take on a full stomach? Was that half sandwich I ate for breakfast filling enough? Am I on a full stomach? How do you really define "full"?
Dammit, I've become a pussy once more.
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