Men, I'm Calling You Out

My household is recently getting over the effects of a nasty little stomach bug.  Anna was the lucky person to get it first.  She threw up several times and had a few really horrible blow-outs.  She was a trooper though.  She still played and crawled around like everything was fine.  It's been about 2 days since she started feeling bad, and I think she's coming out of it.  *Knock on wood*

Anna kindly passed the bug to me.  I started feeling really nauseous around noon on Saturday.  I figured it was morning sickness and that I needed to eat something.  WRONG.  I spent the next 12 plus hours puking and pooping.  I couldn't keep anything down.  Not even water.  It was ugly.  I wasn't as much of a trooper as Anna.  I retreated to my bed to sleep it off.  I figured I was in for a rough evening - I was right.

I would wake up every hour or so and run to the toilet.  My heaving would wake up Alex, who would yell from the bed asking if I was alright.  Let me just say that when I'm hugging the toilet, the last thing I want to do is talk to someone.  It's like when you are at the dentist and they try to have a conversation with you while they are screwing around with your teeth.  Well, Alex woke up around midnight complaining that he felt like he was going to throw up.  That's when all hell broke loose.  We spent the next few hours rotating who was puking and pooping and where.  I would have to run to our guest bathroom while Alex was occupying ours.  He even puked in my sink a couple of times.  Let me just say that my toothbrush was laying next to the sink and is now covered in puke juices.  It was replaced very quickly.  Around 3 am, I was dying of thirst but worried about throwing it all up.  I decided to risk it and ventured to the kitchen for Sierra Mists for both of us.  I had been having dreams about drinking something and the soda did not disappoint.  It was the best freaking soda I've ever had.  Luckily it stayed put.  However, Alex wasn't so lucky. 

It was at this point that the 'production' started.  What is it about men that turn them into giant babies when they are sick?  I mean, Alex should have been nominated for an Oscar for his portrayal of a sickly husband.  Let me start by saying that I still didn't feel good.  I hadn't thrown up in a bit, but it was still coming out on the other end.  Alex didn't care.  I was supposed to drop everything and tend to him - it's my wifely duty... (I'd like to shove that wifely duty down his throat.)  He complained about being cold and put on some sweatpants and piled on two down comforters.  He then proceeded to shiver and chatter under the covers - you know, in case I wasn't sure if he was actually cold or not.  I told him to knock it off because he was shaking the entire bed.  He claimed that he couldn't, but quickly stopped.  Every time he would wake up to run to the bathroom (which would wake me up), he would get back in bed and start whimpering and moaning like a little hurt puppy.  I told him to stop.  I found it very interesting that when he thought I was asleep, he would be quiet.  As soon as I would move, the little noises would start again.  I was thisclose to punching him in the face.  At one point, he comes back to bed and tells me that he almost passed out.  He then requires me to fetch a puke bucket for him to keep in the bed.  I was sleeping and still didn't feel good, but please let me wait on your every need.  Can you tell I'm a bit agitated??


My husband, when he's under the weather.