Mar 02 2008
Man Flu
My husband is sick.
If, by chance, he does not survive, his death will have nothing to do with the viral or bacterial infection his body is fighting.
It’ll probably have way more to do with me covering him in used snot rags, pouring Robitussin over them, and tossing a match on the whole mess. (Maybe then I wouldn’t hear anymore “I’m sooooo coooooold.”)
Please come visit me in prison. Promise?
(I am sooooo not a nurturing person where grown ups are concerned. Seriously. I can’t summon up any empathy at all for whining. I’m a bad, bad, very mean wife. And I don’t even swallow.)
Duly noted. :p
DUELY
Ha! My husband just had a sore crown on his tooth, you’d think he got something amputated without anesthesia the way he went on, and on, and on, and on, and made little faces all day. I’m not sympathetic with grown-ups either. With the crown thing, about 2 seconds before I was going to shoot him to put him out of his misery, I asked if he had taken Advil or anything. When he replied that he had not I figured he kindof deserved feeling crappy. I’ve long since joined the ranks of horrible, unsympathetic wives. And non-swallowers.
Count me among your ranks. I offered once to take my husband to the ER because the way he was bitching about his cold made one think he had the plague. When he assured me it was “just a cold” I may have told him “THEN SUCK IT UP!”.