The Help came down with a cold.
I, thank the Lord, am fine. With rest and eye-talian cough syrup (equal parts honey, lemon juice and cognac, heated in the microwave) I've so far kept illness at bay.
This weekend I figured my job as wife and helpmate was to make sure he didn't go anywhere. Seriously, if he had his way, he'd be dragging his diseased corpse to outer Maryland for his weekend volunteer gig and then at church spreading the love and the germs. The most loving thing I could do for my guy and the health of the DC metro area was to keep him in bed and try to stay cold-free myself.
Thankfully we have a second room. It still isn't up to guest room snuff yet. So after 1 night of hacking and tossing, we slept separately. I miss him and I love him, he with the raw red nose and looking like an extra from a zombie movie. I love him and he is mine, every germy snotty coughy inch of him.
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