I briefly touched on the subject of my whole family being sick with the stomach flu the last two days. Lily was a trooper, sure she was a bit more whiny and cuddly (in fact she never even tried to bitch slap me once yesterday) but other than that she only threw up once and then seemed to be over it. Today she bounced back to her adorable, albeit exhausting self. My husband, well that's another story.
But he didn't have what Lily had.
Oh no.
What he had was way, way worse.
He had THE MAN COLD.
Married, Relationship friends, you're probably nodding and rolling your eyes along with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I honestly don't understand what happens to the men in our lives when they get sick. It's like the colds we get mutate and becomes the deadly man-cold, it's like male kryptonite. Yes, men can run the world but even the littlest sniffles can reduce the toughest man to a whiny man-child calling out to his mommy. Think about if super heroes got sick during those crucial moments in the movies. If Superman had gotten the man-cold, Lois Lane would have been a splat on the sidewalk because he wouldn't be able to get out of bed to catch her, and reversing time by rotating the world backwards? forget about it! Gotham city would fall into the hands of the Joker because Batman would be too busy trying to read the directions on how to make chicken soup (until he eventually put the can in the microwave). We would be bowing down to our vacuum cleaners because the terminator and what's-his-face wouldn't have stopped Skynet because they were helplessly trying to figure out the difference between dayquil and nightquil. You get where I'm going with this right?
I don't mean to totally down play Dave being sick-he was and he vomited a few times-in Lily's toy box I might add. This makes him exactly like the cat-puking wherever he chooses. I might add that we have a designated puking/mopping bucket. It's usually reserved for cleaning the floor or after consuming a few too many rum and cokes, but it is still good for the common stomach bug. What? I give it a good rinse between the two duties....That didn't bug me as much about him being sick, at least Lily had emptied the toy box out for him beforehand. What got me was the groaning which got louder and more pronounced the longer I ignored him. The pleads for me to fetch him water (did I mention I'm overly pregnant) and the helplessness of not being able to read a bottle of Tylenol to determine how much he should take. Oh yeah, and the best: in the middle of the night he needed his blanket adjusted to cover his feet. Dave spent all of today on the couch, only sitting up from his deathbed long enough to tell me Lily was crying (after she had awoken from her nap). I actually took the garbage down before it was full to get away for a few minutes.
The scary thing about the last few days is that it made me realize what it's going to be like in a few weeks. I'll be dealing with Lily AND a defenseless, whiny newborn and I'm not as ready as I thought I might be. In fact, I'm sorta scared. I'm going to make sure Dave takes vitamin C and Cold FX every day after the baby is born to guard against the mancold. I'm not ready for 3 babies anytime soon.
I think the more important question really should be: Is the man cold actually tougher than the colds us women get or have we just spoiled men? I mean I don't really understand how Dave can burn his arm welding stuff and shrug it off but a tiny microorganism can incapacitate him completely for two days.
Oh yeah, when you google "mancold humor" for images for say a blog, nothing comes up. Because there is no humor in a man cold.
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