Thursday, December 19, 2013

That is SICK!

It started a couple days ago. Geo's allergies were more annoying obvious than usual. He sounded like Barry White swallowed a frog and he didn't even try and get me to go rock climbing or to the gym or to The Hobbit movie or anything. Something was up. Geo was actually sick.

Then yesterday after work, he declared that he was going to bed at 5 p.m. and I said "Well do you want dinner?" And he was like "I'm not that hungry. Maybe just an entire pizza." Boys. So I made him dinner, brought it up to him in bed and it was like walking into a pre-teen emo cliche. The lights were off, the Miami Heat game flickered softly on the TV and Geo was tucked under the covers with his black hoodie pulled over his eyes. "I can't even look at the light. Can I have a Coke?"

Well, I'm an awesome wife, so I said "Yup, got one right here, buddy."

This morning he didn't go to work, meaning he was REALLY feeling bad. When he got out of bed, he came downstairs to where I was working and announced that he couldn't even drink coffee...that's how bad he felt. And he proceeded to go down to his man cave to lay in the comforting embrace of a dark, windowless room, video games and Netflix. I started to worry about him around lunchtime. I went down and saw him on the couch with his black hoodie covering his face.

"Do you want some NyQuil or something? Or are you hungry? Do you want some dry toast and tea?" That's ALWAYS what I want when I'm sick.

"No, thanks."

"Geo, I will get you whatever you want. What do you feel like? Coffee? 7-Up?"

"Um, maybe just a large double-cheeseburger meal from McDonald's? With a Coke? And maybe an extra double cheeseburger?"

Is that all?

I went and got him the type and amount of food that usually MAKES me sick.

(I also picked myself up a Happy Meal as a reward for being such a great caretaker. Side note: this came with my Happy Meal:
I took that picture and texted it to Geo downstairs to cheer him up. He texted back "best pic ever." So yeah, it was worth it.)

Anyway, around dinner, I asked the patient what he felt like eating. "I'm not really hungry. Can you just get me a twice-baked lasagna from Fazoli's and a Coke?"

No problem.

Okay, so the point is that even when they're sick, boys get to eat whatever they want. It's unfair. Girls (or at least the ones I know) are all dainty when we're sick. We need tea and dry toast, and maybe some know, when we're feeling up to it. But not men. No. they need MORE junk. Then again, I'm usually only sick for a day or two, whereas Geo will still be talking about his watery eyes on New Year's Eve. I guess it's a trade off. Whatever. I'd take the McDonald's ANY DAY.