I have a cold. I think we’ve established that. In fact, if you closed your eyes and listened really carefully, you might be able to hear me coughing all the way down here in Florida.
When I am sick, I want to be left alone. Just leave me alone to die a slow, annoying, sniffling death. But Chris cannot let this be. He simply cannot allow me to suffer through a cold without standing over me the entire time telling me how I am getting sick wrong.
That’s right. He judges how I approach a sickness.
During some colds, he stands over me insisting that I am not eating/drinking/sleeping enough. During other colds he stands over me insisting that I’m not getting better because I’m laying in bed instead of on the couch. And during others, he assures me that if I were really serious about getting better I would be taking my medications more regularly.
He’s always got a critique. And I know what you are thinking, “Geez, Katie, he’s only trying to take care of you.”
No, you are wrong.
He’s not trying to take care of me. He’s trying to do it better than me. Be a better sick person than me. What a sicko.
So, this time, I’m sick and pregnant and there’s really not much I can do about it besides suffer through it. At first I thought, “Ha! Let’s see Chris try and find something his PREGNANT, SICK wife is doing wrong now!” Muwahahahaha!!!
(that’s my evil laugh)
You’re gonna die when I tell you what he has started picking at now.
Apparently, I don’t know how to spit. Yep. Spitting. It has come down to spitting.
The other day I was hacking up a lung and Chris says to me, “You gotta spit that crap out!”
“I know that, dear, but there’s nothing to spit – hence the hacking. I can’t get anything to break up in my chest yet.”
“Well, you’re doing it wrong. You gotta spit that stuff out!” he insisted.
“That’s what I’m telling you. There’s nothing to spit out!”
“How could you cough like that and have nothing to spit out?”
“I DON’T KNOW! THERE’S JUST NOTHING TO SPIT OUT!” I yelled.
“Well, you’re doing it wrong,” he said.
Now, every time I cough, Chris yells out from whatever corner of the house he is in, “SPIT THAT OUT!” Like I’m a four-year-old. And, trust me, if there’s anything more annoying that being sick and pregnant, it’s being sick and pregnant and having your husband try to make you spit.