A Taste of My Own Medicine
We had a severe case of The Man Cold here last week. The boys were a little out of sorts, and their dad too. I lapped on the sympathy, as I usually do, NOT! I am not a good nurse, and my boys are not good patients.
I lovingly said things like, “Suck it up, Princess”, “Get over it… it’s not that bad!!’ and “For the love of God, will you stop sucking in your snots and get a TISSUE!” I am no Florence Nightingale.
I did however, have a steady stream of chicken soup for them all, along with plenty of vitamin C rich food. That’s got to count for something, right?
As they were all on the mend I was struck with the most terrible case of The Man Cold ever. It was 100% worse than theirs. You see, if a woman gets The Man Cold it’s debilitating, unlike the minor inflictions a man suffers.
Did I receive an equal dose of loving nursing? Truth be told; they were all rather good to me. I like silence, and peace when I’m unwell, so I took to my bed yesterday, and stayed there for most of the day. IrishDev was home and manned the house and ran it as men often do… he left a mess for me to clean up today.
And I swear the boys only came to find me 20 times, instead of the usual 100, to ask me things. Now, they could have asked their dad who was more than likely standing right beside them when the thought came into their heads, but no, Mammy has all the answers… “I wonder if I can paint? I’ll go ask Mum”, “Can we take the ferrets out? MUM!!!!”….”Can I take a piss?” Ok, the take a piss one didn’t happen, but it could have!
We are all better now, and I am going to work on my nursing skills, and get a lock for my bedroom door!