How are you doing? Okay?

There are very few times in my life where I’m ready to throw in the towel, but when I’m sick and Honey is at the bedside? Down goes the white terry. I. Swear. To. God! If he came in to check on me one more time (this would be yesterday while I was suffering some kind of putrid plague) I was going to scream. Ironic, as I didn’t think I had the strength. But I digress, let me assure you that Honey and I are complete opposites when we get sick. I want to be left alone and him NOT SO MUCH

So there I was, wallowing in my own misery and not bothering a soul, when Honey gets home and starts hovering. I think that’s what he was doing, quite frankly it was hard to tell through my raging fever fogged mind, but we’ll assume he was doing this. This is how I recall things.

Me finally sleeping because I’d gotten my achy bones in a position that didn’t make me want to cry. Can you hear me? No of course you can’t. I don’t snore, so of course I’m going to be poked – by Honey and not in the good way. This was in a very, very, bad way. Have you guessed it? He thought I was dead.

0.0

“Babe? Babe?” He pokes, pokes harder and pokes harder still. “Are you okay?” Now he shakes. “Babe?”

I don’t even want to open my eyes, but boy did I wish I had enough energy to sock him one! I groan. “What? I’m fine. I’m resting.”

“Oh. What do you want to do for dinner?”

I’m lying there thinking, he just thought I was dead and now he wants me to organize his dinner plans? That’s cold. “I don’t know, would you like me to cook you the lobster and steak I bought from the grocery store earlier?”

“Surf and turf?”

You know, I didn’t even feel bad getting his hopes up – the jerk! “I don’t give a…” Well, I could tell you what I said to him, but I wouldn’t want to offend anyone. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t nice. Then I told him to leave me be. Of which he did for about 30 minutes. Then he came back in.

“Have you been drinking plenty of fluids?”

“Yes, now please just let me rest.”

Half hour later.

“Did you take some Tylenol?”

I didn’t, but I told him yes and asked him nicely to leave.

Another half hour later he creeps in. “Were any of those fluids you’ve been drinking today, Gatorade or Pedialyte?”

I was living in hell and he was the punisher. I pulled myself up as best I could, huffed the hair out of my eyes and glared at him or tried to. “You called our daughter, didn’t you?” The tip-off being Honey wouldn’t know about this fluid stuff. He’d be more likely to try and get me to down some brandy then, you know, give me something that actually worked.

Honey gets this stupid look on his face, as if he’s half offended and half going to lie to me. “Maybe.”

I groan and fall back in the bed. “Tell me you didn’t call your mother.”

“God no. I called the kids and the girls and your sister.”

“Just one? I’m surprised you didn’t call both of them.”

“I tried, but she didn’t pick-up.”

So, translation of all this? When I’m well Honey wouldn’t be caught dead on the phone, but sick as I was? The man couldn’t get off it. Jeez! For someone who likes to play it low-key when they’re sick, news of my illness certainly got around. Oh, and Honey ordered in. Yeah, I know you were as worried as I was about what he was going to eat for dinner.

Men! *Shakes Head*

Riley