Allyson's Wonderland

Man Down.

Oh, you guys.  I hate this time of year for oh my God so many reasons one reason and one reason only.  The inevitable has happened.  Despite my preparations, admonishments, warnings and fervent prayers, the worst has happened.

Mark has a cold.

Every OCD germ-sensing-red-light-flashing-oh-my-God-must-bleach-all-the-things nerve is shrieking at me to burn the house down get the masks and gloves out.  All of those tissues I picked up and threw away this morning?  Germ-laden.  The toothpaste I picked up and used?  Germ-laden.  The hand-towel I dried my hands on when I was done?  Germ-laden.  Door knobs?  Coffee cup?  TV remotes?  AAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!  *pant-pant-pant…puts down the matches and gas can and sits down with a bag of M&M’s*  Get it together, Al…you’re cool.

OK, no need to get crazier crazy.  I’ve been ready for this since August.  I’ve stockpiled Halo, Halls, Tissues, Ibuprofin and Tylenol, Robitussin, Mucinex, and DayQuil just for this very reason.  We have juice, water, tons of soup,crackers and tea.  I have a full gallon of bleach and I’m not afraid to use it.  Somebody had to go down first.  It’s good that it’s not me or the girls.

Here are our texts that announced his plague-state illness from a few minutes ago:

Mark: head is so stuffed up.  I fink I hab a code.

Me:  Fuck.

Mark:  Lol…I was hoping for sympathy.

Me:  Oh, foolish boy.

Now it’s not that I won’t be sympathetic.  I love that man to the point of not burning down our home after realizing it’s full of germ that’s love.  I will also publicly post his tweets, because I want the world sending him positive love and healing vibes.  (hahahaha… that’s a lie..I did it because it was funny)  And, I am the bitchin’est care-giver this side of the Mason-Dixon line.  I will glide you a box of tissues across the hardwood floor, roll you a bottle of water down the stairs.  Shoot Tylenol down your throat with a Nerf gun from behind the barricade of the couch with flawless accuracy.  But when you have a serious, honest to God, stay awake at night worrying thing about germs phobia like I have to be creative..preferably from afar, and in a hazmat suit.



3 thoughts on “Man Down.

  1. Allison

    I’m sorry for you for this reason only. There is nothing worse than a sick man. Nothing. I had a rash this summer from laundry detergent that made me tear off most of my flesh. Not as bad as a sick man. Remember that time at Middy’s house that we drank all those not -quite -set hello shots and the knock off Baily’s Irish Cream? That hangover was not as bad as a sick man. The whining and gnashing of teeth. Him- “I’m so sick I think I might die.”
    You- “Babe I think this is what I had last week. I was talking about it as I was doing the laundry and checking the homework and getting the gum out of the cats tail. It wasn’t THAT bad.”
    Him- “No you didn’t . You couldn’t possibly have had what I’ve got now. I’m on my deathbed and completely incapacitated and useless. ”
    You – “Oh.”
    Christ didn’t suffer on the cross the way a man suffers when he’s sick.

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