I have spent many a night rocking a sick child with fevers so high their little heads would leave scorch marks on my cheek.
I can't tell you how many times I had spit-up down my back or puke over my front and it doesn't bother me in the least.
If my kids are sick, I am there. Wiping the puke, changing the sheets, measuring the Advil, never once losing my temper. It doesn't bother me one bit.
But as soon as my husband says he has a cold I want to put the pillow over his face.
I don't know why this happens to me! I am not a violent person, but as soon as he sneezes I want to punch him in the head.
Maybe it's because he wakes me up to tell me he's sick ten times a night. Maybe it's because he flops around the bed moaning and groaning like he's dying of a near fatal disease. Or maybe it's because he follows me around the house telling me how sick he is and leaving his snotty tissues on the coffee table for me to pick up.
Why do men think they married their mothers?
My husband followed me around the house with a pair of pants hanging over his arm telling me he needed a button sewn on. I was making lunches for the next day, trying to negotiate a truce with pre-teen daughter on what she was going to wear to school, while pushing teenaged son to get in the shower, feed the dog and check homework.
"Do I look like your mother? Do I look like I own a sewing basket?" If pants need a button, throw them out and buy a new pair!
Then he plays the hide and seek game with me. "Where's my tie clip?" How the hell do I know? When was the last time I wore his tie clip? "You're always hiding stuff on me!" he says. "If you'd only put stuff back where it belongs! It's not hiding, it's cleaning up!" Like I have time to hide his tie clip.
I did hide the tie clip that time just to mess with his mind.
"I don't remember you graduating from the School for the Deaf?" I tell him all the time. No matter what I say he'll say "What?" I know he hears me because if I don't answer he'll repeat what I said and answer me.
This man can stand on our back patio, watch a golf game on our TV through the living room window (Yes he has it set up perfectly) and read the lips of the players but he can't hear me talking when I am standing right in front of him.
I know why women outlive men. Because men can't live on their own.
If I died first, my husband would sit in his lounge chair watching golf forever. He wouldn't know where his underwear or tie clip were because I'd take them in the casket with me just to piss him off!
He'd never know what's for supper, or where the children were. They'd find him years from now, a skeleton in a lounge chair covered in cobwebs with a remote in his hand.
I know it is flu season. My kids are passing it back and forth. It's like they lick each other to spread the germs. When kids are sick, they want Mom. No one wants to puke over Dad. He stands in the hall asking "Do you need any help?"
That's ok. I can handle it.
But when I am holding a kid's head over the toilet and a cold facecloth to their head, the last thing I want to hear is "I feel so sick. I am going back to bed."
When I am sitting in that chair, rocking a sick child back to sleep and I hear snoring coming from the master bedroom, that's when I want to sneak in and just so lightly push the pillow over his head.