Sick Baby...err, Husband

Disclaimer: I love my husband very much. And what you'll find written below is nothing he isn't aware of or anything I wouldn't say to his face. Just thought I'd get that out there. Enjoy!

This has been an interesting week around the Acosta house. Starting last weekend, Herschel began to feel like he was coming down with something. I had already had my round with the head and chest congestion stuff that has been going around, and I was just beginning to think he was in the clear, when it got him. I realize that simply by thinking that, I am the reason he got sick. But, I digress.

As I was saying, Herschel started feeling bad last weekend. Did I mention that we took another quick trip last weekend?? Oh yes, that's right. We went across the state to Fort Myers, Florida, for a convention for our church. So, by the time we got back home on Saturday evening, he was quickly approaching the point of being miserable.

Like a champ, he taught Sunday School, but then quickly went downhill. This led to him going into work on Monday morning for about an hour before heading to the doctor. By the time he got home from the doctor, something incredible had happened. The strong, independent, man that I married had somehow been unmistakeably replaced by a helpless, borderline whiny, sick baby.

As soon as he walked in the house he came into the kitchen where I happened to be, and stood there, put on his most pathetic face and whimpered (I'm not exaggerating) "I'm hungry." I was so stunned at this transformation, that I just turned and looked at him, almost speechless. I guess he took my confusion for annoyance or defiance, to which he tried to defend his original statement with an equally sad sounding whimper of "But I didn't eat any breakfast!!"

This was only Monday, so I couldn't help but laugh. And being the good wife that I am, I promptly went to the store and got him some groceries and made him some vegetable soup.

I apparently took such good care of him on Monday that he decided to spend the rest of the week at home. I know, lucky me. If only I'd known, I would've started out slowly with something like toast and a sprite and then worked my way up to homemade soup.

Since we don't have any kids yet, I can't say for sure, but I felt like having a sick husband this week prepared me (only slightly) for having a sick baby. Helpless, check. Needing lots of special attention, check. Slightly whiny, check. Lack of sleep, oh yes.

In fact, it was the last item that just about did me in. Anyone who has been close by when Herschel blows his nose when he's not sick realizes that he has sinus issues. It is only amplified when he is sick, but add to it some of the loudest coughing, hacking, and throat clearing noises you've ever heard, and you'll know what I've woken up to several times a night and every morning for the last week. In fact, I was so tired that I didn't even realize that I would wake up, grab his pillow or whatever was closest to me, place it over my head, and fall back asleep until he came back to bed and removed it from my head.

So, you will understand my excitement when I woke up this morning to silence. It was absolutely beautiful. I just laid there. It was a day I wasn't sure would ever come again. To be sure, he's definitely still sniffing and snorting, he just graciously postponed it ever so slightly until I woke up this morning. But I'll take it any way I can get it.

I am exceedingly happy for a variety of reasons to report that my husband is on the mend, and I am beginning to see him transform back into his old self. But one of the most interesting things to come of all of this came on Monday night. I was doing a Pampered Chef party at a lady's house and I mentioned that my husband was sick, and without missing a beat, every single woman there groaned in unison, and uttered some form of "Aren't they pathetic when they get sick? They are just like children? Good luck!" I guess it doesn't matter how old they get, men will always turn into babies when they get sick.