Having a cold is hard, I know. I hear you coughing, sniffling, and moaning…do you have a fever? I’m happy to run out and get you some medicine if that’s what you need. A cold washcloth, sure. Orange juice? Fine. But hubby? There’s something I need you to know.
You are not dying. You have a cold.
Please, I need you to cool it on the dramatics. The “I’m on my last breath” voice is a little over the top. Calling out to Jesus to heal you is scaring the kids. Is army crawling on your forearms and stomach from the bed to the bathroom really necessary, Lieutenant Dan?
I understand you’re feeling tired, but are you really unable to move right now? Honey, you just took a four hour nap. The last nap I had was after eight hours of labor and even then a nurse woke me up to remind of my responsibilities. Can I get a little help with the kids?
Not to make you feel bad, but when I have a cold, I don’t get to lay up in bed like I have malaria with a touch of blindness. More juice? Um, ok. You think you have the chills? Alright. You need a back rub. Now wait just a damn minute.
You know you don’t have the plague right? This is a cold. You know those things I too get somethings but have to keep going on with normal life.
Nobody brings me juice (I don’t ask for it). Nobody keeps the kids away from me so that I can sleep. Nobody treats me like I’m on my damn deathbed.
Husband, I know you’re not feeling well but 1) I’m not your mama 2) You’re a grown ass man and 3) You are not dying so I’m going to need you to pop a couple Sudafed and after this second nap, please rejoin the family.
I love you.