Monday, March 2, 2015

Stop the World. My Husband has a cold.

Every time the hub gets a sniffle, it's the same thing. He, the only one who ever had whatever it is he has or thinks he has, is never going to fee well again and the world is going to stop turning.

(This would be very bad because we’d lose gravity and all fly up into the air at the same time).
Then the martyr in him comes out:

Him (Hand on head, coughing for effect) - Don't worry about me. I'll just get some soup.
Me - Fine (I know where this is going, but I'll play along)
Him - (Taking one small step toward the stove) By the way where is the soup?
Me- In the pantry.
Him- (Now standing motionless and looking left and right) And where is the pantry?

Does it sound familiar to anyone?

Next he plants his germ infested body in the living room and struggles with the remote, because even if men are taking their last breath, they must be watching TV while doing it. Picture of charm, he is in a white tee-shirt and his PJ bottoms with a box of tissues on his chest and a garbage pail next to his chair so he can dispose of anything he feels will not advance him to a total miracle cure. He is now reclining, motionless, eyes closed. But even as I try to take the remote and change the channel, he says "I was watching that." Okay, I understand now. He has x-ray vision and can see right through his eyelids.

Then comes the “favors”.  Honey, get me a blanket. Done. Honey, can I have a pillow. Done. Honey, can I have some juice. Done. All this while I'm dusting, doing laundry, taking all the phone calls, cleaning up the dinner he asked for the day before and now can't possibly eat because his delicate constitution is in shambles, and trying desperately to write at least 3 pages in the next book in between royal summonses.

After a few hours of noises coming from him that belong in a Stephen King movie trailer, I ask him if he wants to a few more cold tablets to help him feel better. It goes something like this.

Me - Honey, maybe it's time to take a few more cold pills.
Him - I didn't take anything yet.
Me - but you came home from work 6 hours ago.
Him - I was afraid it would put me to sleep.

PUT HIM TO SLEEP!!!! Wasn't that what we're supposed to do when we get sick? Hydrate, rest and sleep??

Deep breath. A cold is only going to last three days.

I'll be in Iceland until he gets cured.

Kathye Quick is a wife, mom, writer, government worker and now, apparently a home health care worker, who is desperately trying to meet a deadline for her second book in the Bachelors Three series for the Wild Rose Press.

And yes, she is really in Iceland - right now - probably sitting in a geothermal pool watching the snow fall around her, and hopefully, without her husband's cold.


  1. I sympathize with him. I hate to have a cold and my husband knows it. However, my daughter-in-law is familiar with 'man-flu' when my eldest is a bit under the 'weather'.

  2. The bigger they are, the harder they fall!

  3. Have you ever seen this? It's a family favorite. Whenever the husband starts sniffling, we all repeat "Poor little bunny."

  4. Kathye--
    Men! Hee hee. Your poor hubby, but glad you're in Iceland, sitting in a hot pool.