Ben infected me with whatever disease he contracted last week. This is the same disease from which I lovingly nursed him back to health by providing orange juice, vitamin C cough drops, making homemade chicken noodle soup, giving back rubs... basically being the best damn wife ever. And that little twerp repaid me with Sickness 2.0.
Since it's HIS turn to play nurse, then by default it's MY turn to play the dramatic patient. And that's a role I was born to play.
One line that I'm test driving for future prego-related instances is "WHYYYY did you do this to me?!" Initial studies show that when paired with sad eyes it is quite an effective way of receiving food/cuddles/forehead kisses. On the other hand, the blowing nose/coughing combo while trying to laugh at Netflix shows results in concerned looks....and Ben "going to check something" in the living room/kitchen/bathroom/closet for 20 minutes. It's a work in progress.
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| husband's shopping trip... |
If I'm going to be sick (even though I drank gallons of orange juice and practiced ninja moves to keep it away, so I'm not sure what's going on here), then I'm glad it's someone like Ben helping me get better. Because he knows that when you're feeling sick, you should have cookies for breakfast (even though my cat Paris nabbed a cookie chunk out of my hand and ate it in front of me) and snack on candy corn throughout the day. At least that's what I've concluded from his shopping trip last night. That, and what kind of cats eat cookies?
xoxo, b
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