Hellllllooooooooo blogworld!! It's been a while since I've posted so I feel pressure to make it good. Unfortunately I'm just going to discuss the benefits of a good foot powder.
Kidding.
Really though, it does seem silly that I am kickin the new blog month off with a complaint about sick time. Nobody likes being sick, I get it. But I was the baby of the family growing up and when I am sick I really feel like I should have a little help. I don't expect much, I am a Mom after all, and have mom job stuff to do. I just want my husband to bring me ice cream for my sore throat after he stops at the top stop for a cup of their good ice, then tuck me into bed after he gets home from work so he has less people bothering him while he tries to make me my chicken soup from scratch. What is the problem?
I'll tell you what the problem is. He one-ups me. Every time.
I get sick, he gets sicker. I think it's just to show me he can. Either way I think it's rather selfish of him. This past week I've been down with a sinus infection. Pete can't have that, so he came home with a hurt back. Like leave the workplace kind of hurt back. He was walking like a rowboat paddle. Tall and stiff. No neck turning.
Sneaky, that one.
Truly though, I do feel for the walking paddle. Besides being pathetically cute when he's sick the truth is, he doesn't have a darned clue how it happened. The doc said it could have happened any time, doing any regular ol' thing and he probably didn't even feel it when it happened. It could have been something as small as sneezing and just caused the muscle to seize up. Isn't getting old great? The doc says. He sent him home with some muscle relaxers. He's doing a little better now, thank you for asking, but I believe you are missing the most important part!
My Hubs, just hurt his back SNEEZING! That qualifies for old man status, I believe. He's nearing thirty after all. He claims I'm a month and a day older than him, but clearly, I've never been incapacitated by a good sneeze.
So I've been babying my man. While I am sick (without even considering the thought that I should get a medal because that hasn't even crossed my mind) because I don't think you can go back from here, so he wins the sick game again. I pity the poor fellow. Well, Burnett, we'll always have our care-free 20's to look back on. I will have my spunky thirties. Together we can make it through your old age.
P.S. My mom sends her condolences, and wants you to know that she has some secrets to share with you on staying active into your older years.
Love you Pete!
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