Typhoid Mary is alive and well

I'd like to thank my darling daughter, Thing 2, aka "Typhoid Mary" for passing on her sickness and illness to the last person who needs to be sick at this time:  her father.

As any married woman knows, there is nothing worse than having a sick husband because they instantly regress from a mature adult to a whiny, cranky toddler who demands to be coddled and woe to anyone who forgets the bendy straw in their juice.

Thing 2 has been a snotty turdy head all week, coughing, sniffling, wheezing and she feels the need to "Share the wealth" of germs with the rest of the family.  She wants to cuddle and snuggle with me, all an evil plan to get me sick I'm sure.  So far (knock wood) I have resisted her attempts to infect me but unfortunately, TheManTheMyth has fallen victim.  Goody.


I found this out when he rudely shoved me awake in the middle of the night and not because I was (allegedly) snoring.  As I sat up all, "What?  What's wrong?" he replies demands "Aren't you going to get me something?" and I'm all "For what?" and he snivels, "for my cough" and he coughs for emphasis.


Oh.  How rude of me.  Obviously I'm a terrible wife if I'm able to sleep through his coughs and wheezes instead of springing to action to pour Night Time Coughy Sneezy Achy So He Can Rest medicine down his throat.  I guess I won't be getting something special for Valentine's Day (not that we observe that day but still).


So I drag myself out of bed and head to the kitchen to rummage around the medicine cabinet and find something to shut him up help relieve his discomfort and cough.


I find the bottle of the Good Cough Syrup, the one that contains a narcotic but it's almost empty with no refills and I prefer to save that for when someone is coughing hard enough in the middle of the night to pop a rib out of place so I continue to rummage and finally find a bottle of over the counter "night time" cough syrup along with some cough drops, which seemed to work.  I guess.  I don't know because I fell back asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow (after shoving Gracie Lou off of it first).


This is a really crappy time for TheManTheMyth to be sick because a) he has a 100 mile motorcycle race this weekend and will need all his strength and breathing ability and 2) he's supposed to go up to Northern California next week for a job and the last thing he needs is to be sick.


The last time TMTM was sick, I spent a week sleeping on the couch and I really don't want to do that again.  Because it sucked.  And was uncomfortable.  And I didn't sleep so much as doze fitfully while TMTM snored happily, LOUDLY away in our warm and snuggly bed in his medication-induced sleep with no thought whatsoever to MY discomfort.


SO inconsiderate.