Truth be told, it’s been a good ten years since I’ve been afflicted with a cold virus. Alas it struck me like a speeding locomotive and brought back all those pleasant cold related memories that I had neatly tucked away in some obscure pocket of brain tissue. The abundance of fluid in the head, dizziness, coughing, chills. Sheesh.
Of course, we all know that a girl cold is way, waaayy different than a boy cold. We females tend to pretty much carry on with our daily routines, albeit sniffling and coughing along the way, but nonetheless continuing with our daily chores as usual. Laundry does not wash itself, dishes do not magically clean themselves, and meals don’t appear out of thin air.
Woman just keep going. Specifically in my case, where one lives with a “sympathy sufferer”, I try to keep going in absolute silence, cuz for sure he’s gonna get whatever ails me.
Now men, on the other hand, are a completely different story. The mere fact that I’m writing this will no doubt ensure that Lucky will be starting to sniffle by day’s end, because in twenty something years I’ve never, ever, not even ONE TIME, harbored my own illness. He always gets it, no matter what “it” is. Guaranteed every single ache or pain I’ve suffered becomes OURS.
Darned if he wasn’t doubled right over when we had some female surgery. Boy he handled those cramps like a trooper I tell ya. Good thing I managed the vacuuming – post op – cuz he could’ve ruptured something on the spot.
Believe it or not – I don’t really care – he even tried to cash in on my night sweats. That’s right, you heard me. All of a sudden he was waking up in the middle of the night, all drippy and hot, complaining that “honey, I think I’ve got the same thing as you going on”.
Really Rock? You’re menopausal? Well let’s call Guinness and get ya in the Big Book, because there just might be some money to be made here. Now wouldn’t it just be fair game to share those funds with me, the wife with the true hot flashes so severe that global warming tried to interview me?
So again, I give it maybe twenty four hours tops before his first sniffle appears. This will be followed by boy-with-a-cold noises, more specifically “sniff, cough, moan, sniff, moan again.” There’s just no such thing as suffering in silence in a man’s world.
Guess I’d best get the chicken a’boilin in preparation, which I guess really is minor, considering his uterus is still intact (even tho he’s sure he’s already had that surgery….!!!). P.S. – All readers are forbidden to show this to my husband. Traitors will be punished as I see fit. I can assure you it will not be pretty, so back off.
