I have a Man Cold*, people. A Man Cold! Ahhhh!
I’ve never understood those women who talk about how their husbands become big babies when they’re sick. When Darling Husband is sick he still goes out and shovels snow and mows lawns and irons clothes and basically never stops and won’t let me play nurse. I’ve given up. Now when he’s sick I just sort of wave my hand in his general direction and say, “What, sick? Do you need some aspirin or something?” and leave him be.
But me? When I’m sick? The world stops. It’s into the bed for long naps, it’s balled up tissues littering the floor, it’s bottles of cough syrup and bags vitamin C drops on tv trays, it’s whimpering and looking for sympathy and letting my voice crack when I try to speak. I was going to take a picture to show you how miserable I look but that would involve standing up and pressing a button. It’s just all too much. Blech.
Darling Husband and Boy11 have been coughing for 5 weeks straight now. They’re getting a little better. Boy11 can shift positions on the couch without going into a coughing fit. Now he only coughs if he bounces through the house. He certainly hasn’t been to his karate class in 3 or 4 weeks. Running around like that would set off an embarrassing coughing fit. I’ve honestly been a little nervous that maybe the karate people would call some sort of child protection agency to tell them I was hiding my child.
For the past few weeks I’ve been leaving Boy11 at home when I drop off Boy8 at the karate studio so he doesn’t have to breathe in the cold air. But since he’s getting better today I took him with me to drop off Boy8 and then Boy11 and I ran some local errands. After the errands we arrived at the karate place and the karate instructor saw Boy11 through the big window and came out to greet us. He had a confused look on his face. At first I wasn’t sure if his confused face was because Boy11 was actually there, or if it was because Boy11 was wearing his fez. Yes, fez. It’s a Doctor Who thing. Boy8 wears his cool fedora everywhere he goes and Boy11 wears…the fez. Sigh. It’s a darn good thing he’s homeschooled or he’d get beaten up after school, I know.
Anyway, the karate instructor comes out, glances at the fez, and says, “Boy11! We wondered where you were! I thought your parents might have sold you for some extra cash.”
Hang on. I just remembered that Boy8 ordered himself some bowties. They should arrive any day now. It’s a Doctor Who thing as well. I guess they’re both equally nerdy. A fez and bowties. Hey, what’d you expect with parents like Darling Husband and me? They’re doomed, poor dears.
And now I need to go lie down and watch some TV. I’m almost at the end of Breaking Bad** and realized that Netflix doesn’t have the last 8 episodes. Ugh. And when I’m sick, too. What a world, what a world (yo)…
*After I finished writing this I looked up the link to Man Cold. Hilarious! That’s exactly how I am when I’m sick. It’s uncanny. Do you see all those tissues around the guy and the stuff on the coffee table in front of him? That’s me right now so you don’t even need a picture to know what I look like. Yes, when I’m sick I look like an overweight British guy.
**Speaking of selling people, I’m on the episode where Jesse thought that Gus was selling him to the cartel.
Cool fedora below. We didn’t take pictorial evidence of the fez.