Sick husbands are sad sacks who will be the bane of your existence until they’re on the mend. If your husband appears in the morning wearing a God-awful hoodie, know you’re in for a long week. It will start subtle enough with some moaning and maybe a cough or two. Before you know it, your house will be turned into a TB ward and trails of Kleenex and mugs of tea will be littered everywhere. You will get the blow by blow of every change in snot color and/or bowel movement. A tickle in the throat may be described as “an ice pick stabbing me in the throat.”
You of course, just recovered from the very same cold last week and no one even noticed you were sick. That will not deter your husband from milking his minor ailment for every ounce of sympathy he can. The worst part is, there is absolutely nothing you can do but grin and bear it. You will start out as a loving wife, getting tea and moving the Kleenex box two inches closer, but quickly your patience will wane. You may even find yourself sneaking some Benadryl into his soup to knock him out for an extended afternoon nap. You have our blessing; just follow the suggested dosage on the instructions.