Sick Guys

I want to preface this blog by stating that I am under no circumstances-a man hater. As a matter of fact, I hate man-haters. If ya wanna hate men, go play for the other team. We're all in this together. I think in this day and age having basic cordial respect for one's spouse is as archaic as using the post office to communicate with someone. BUT, when my husband or one of my sons get sick, I want to pour battery acid in my eardrums to numb the pain. I'll be more specific. My husband was throwing up this morning. Didn't take any medicine-didn't make a doctor's appointment-just went to work. This just spells disaster for everyone he comes in contact with. Not that he's contagious, he's just such a @##$%^@$%^ when he's not feeling well. I once told him it was impossible to feel sympathy for him in his time of need because he's such a jerk.
It started with him biting my head off when I made my morning call to him on my way to work. He takes one child and two dogs every morning. I take two children. This situation was a lot more even before HE decided we needed another puppy. But that's another blog entirely. He bit my head off because he was trying to get Ro into school. He'd call me back. About an hour later he calls and is very sweet. This 'being sweet after jerkiness' used to trick me into believing sweetness was to be expected for the rest of the day. I've scored better in trig exams.
Then at lunch we eat together. It starts out with him being very cordial, if not a little quiet. The lunch ended with him screaming at me as I went through a yellow (and YES it was yellow AND it was on a 70 mph road). So, feeling like a 16 year old bringing home the family sedan with a new ding, I didn't say anything the rest of lunch.
About an hour ago, he called to inform me that we're about to start fighting like we used to. Meaning we divide the assets and tell each other exactly where to go. We're about to start fighting like that because I didn't carry the mail into the house at lunch because I had to get back to work. I called to tell him what we had. This turned into a lecture about how dirty my car always is and that he's tired of cleaning it out. This is the same car that logs about 100 miles a day back and forth to my work, his work, the kids' school, daycare center, post office, bank, grocery store, eye doctor, dentist appointment, wrestling, volleyball, swimming with the three kids (and sometimes a dog) in tow. I've never asked that he clean out my car and he rarely rides in it so its cleanliness is really irrelevant. I guess at this point I can start bitching about having to wash everybody's clothes every day and how under appreciated I am. But that would just be me naggin then wouldn't it?
So, WE'RE not going to fight like anything today. Today I choose NOT to react to the jerk off things he'll say because he's too stubborn to just admit he doesn't feel good and wants everyone else as miserable as he is. I won't let him bait me into saying things a sailor working in the oilfield would be embarassed to hear. BUT I will remember the standard that has been set for behavior when one is sick. Because apparently being sick gives one license to be insensitive, overbearing, and just rude as hell in general. With that in mind, "COME ON FLU SEASON" I've got a lot to say.