Men and Colds
OK...so my whole family is sick. I am not talking about just the sniffles here, I am talking about full bore coughing with a whole lot of phlegm. Gross...I know. A little too much over share there, but I have to let you know how bad the cold really is. My poor daughter is in the last stages of the cold, so I am pretty happy about that, but seriously....what is up with men when they get sick? So I am not saying that I am the super woman of colds here, like I can withstand any illness and still fight crime, but COME ON...it seems like men get the sniffles and all of the sudden, they can't pee without your help?! It appears that once men get the first sign that they are not feeling well, their wives become some sort of servant that has to cater to their every needs? It is almost like they have time traveled through some pathetic illness time traveling worm hole, and we have become their mother. It is all of the constant whining, and complaining about how crappy they feel, all the while we have to cater to their every needs just to shut them up. Some people would call that being an enabler...I call it shutting the poor fool up so I can get some peace! Oh and don't get me started on what starts to go down, if I even start to complain that I feel like crap because, you have to remember it is ALL about them. I only go down that rabbit hole when I am sooooo frustrated that I just cannot take it any more and I just snap. He gets the full force of my anger with some choice colorful language, combined with a couple of hand signals, and I can tell you that he gets the picture...and it is totally high definition, and in widescreen. I have just provided him the IMAX version of this picture with THX audio, and he is like”...I am sooooo sick and you are being so mean...” Seriously...are we five here. I feel like that bully on the playground beating up the fat kid...what the hell? Not to mention the constant bugging/begging for juice, medicine, blankets, the TV remote or whatever he is too lazy to go get up and get for himself. I know that I have hit the “rock bottom” of the illness when I sit there and watch him take pulls from the Nyquil bottle like it was a flask of Bubba moonshine from some illegal distillery in the deep south. To tell you that I am looking forward to him feeling better is an understatement...I am just waiting for him to start traveling back through the time traveling worm hole, where he is no longer whiny, cranky, and annoying...just back to being a dumb ass. Is that too much to ask? Seeing that he is still sick...apparently it is.
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