The flu struck my house.

The flu struck my house this weekend, and I’m pretty sure my husband was one step away from laying out his will. I will never understand why men become such big babies when they get sick. Granted, I do feel bad for him because he rarely gets sick, but my god is he whiny.

In the course of one hour I was getting him soup and taking his temperature and reheating his soup that he didn’t eat and getting him another blanket and reheating his soup for the third time. By the end of the day I was just as exhausted as the fever was making him. 

Do they not realize that they’re whiny and grumpy and have reverted back to being a child? I really don’t understand. And as much as I would love to tell him do do everything himself like he does to me when I’m sick (although, I get it, I’m sick a lot) I can’t be cause I feel bad, because you know, he’s sick.

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