Brandon is home with a nasty case of tonsillitis this morning. Needless to say, it was a rough weekend.
He announced he wasn’t feeling good on Friday. Saturday, he was burning up all day. And by Sunday morning, his throat was just about swollen shut.
Poor guy felt so bad that I didn’t even have to force him to see the doctor. He piled in the car willingly. That’s always a pretty good sign it’s more serious than he’s letting on.
After three hours at the ER and a steroid shot, they released Brandon with scripts for antibiotics and lidocaine mouthwash.
Unfortunately, our pharmacy was closed, and we had to treat his sore throat with home remedies for the night.
We tried all the usual suspects: gargling with warm salt water, a teaspoon of honey, and warm drinks. None of it worked.
So, I turned to Twitter and asked for everyone’s favorite home remedies for sore throats. That’s where I was reminded of Southern cough syrup.
I was a little disappointed I didn’t think of it myself. My first experience with Southern cough syrup is seared in my brain.
I was a teenager visiting Daddy at Mamaw and Papaw’s house. Everyone had come down with a nasty cold. So Papaw pulled the mason jar down from the top of Mamaw’s china cabinet.
I sat on the couch in the den and watched Mamaw and Papaw through the kitchen door as they used moonshine, honey, and a little lemon juice to make Southern cough syrup.
Careful not to let it boil – they added a little more honey. Stirred. Tasted. Giggled. Repeated. They perked right up after a few dozen spoonfuls! lol
That’s a precious memory to me. Mamaw didn’t drink, so watching her get giggly from cough syrup was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
I can’t believe it wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when Brandon started complaining of a sore throat. Southern cough syrup is famous for its ability to coat and numb the throat.
We don’t have moonshine, but we do have some good bourbon.
Before Brandon went to bed last night, we warmed some up. We added a little honey and a bit of lemon. We tasted it. Added a little more honey. Stirred. Tasted. Giggled. Repeated.
It didn’t perk Brandon up – but at least he finally got some sleep.